Seconds to Shatter
by thunder-fish
Summary: What's a hero to do when a question left unanswered turns curiosity into an obsession? A continuation of 'A Moment of Silence.' Contains Ben/Dexter slash.
1. Kiss and Tell

**Seconds to Shatter**

**by thunder-fish**

Being a continuation of what I started in _A Moment of Silence_. Yes, it's more Ben/Dexter slash, so if it's not to your taste, oh well. Fusion Fall and all the characters therein are the property of Cartoon Network and their respective creators.

**_()()()()()()()()()()_  
><strong>

_Trust takes years to build, yet seconds to shatter.  
><em>

**Chapter 1: Kiss and Tell**

"You know, Tennyson, much as I love your cousin, there are time when I just don't get her."

"Like right now, I take it."

"Yeah."

"You mean Gwen - or women in general?"

"Yeah."

Ben grinned at Kevin's frustrated tone, sympathetic for his friend. Gwen certainly had her moments, and it seemed of late she'd had more than her fair share. He suspected it was because his cousin hadn't spent as much time around Kevin as she'd like and she took that resentment out on the very person whose company she wanted. More immersed in the Fusion Invasion than the two Plumbers, Ben hadn't been around so often to take some of the pressure off of Kevin, leaving the nineteen-year-old right in the cross-hairs.

"What's so funny?" glowered Kevin, catching sight of Ben's impish smile.

"You two are like an old married couple."

"I dunno if I'll ever live so long," muttered Levin, producing a chuckle out of Ben. He chose a wrench from the tools laid out beside him, pointing it at the brunet as he said, "You won't be so amused when you're getting serious with someone."

"Why does everything have to be serious?" challenged Ben, stretching his long legs out as he sat on the edge of a packing crate. As he spoke he thought of Dexter and the loving, teasing, give-and-take they shared. Most of what he and Dexter had was fun - they enjoyed one another's company, knew how to drive each other nuts, and when they disagreed (a rare event, and usually Ben did so to get Dexter's Irish up so he could enjoy the accented rants his boyfriend was so good at) they usually just agreed to disagree before carrying on a campaign to convert the other to their way of thinking. A faint smile lingered on his face as Ben remembered Dexter going on and on as to why Kirk was a better captain than Picard and how Ben was betraying good plots for special effects. The sputtering and indignation had been epic and Ben was pretty sure he'd be amused forever.

Kevin gave him a keen look, wondering at the statement and the smile. Ben spoke as if he had a clue, which was impossible unless . . . "What? You going out with someone that you'd know? Who?"

"Ah!" Ben raised his hand in an open-handed gesture of denial. He tried to brush off the very suggestion but Kevin wasn't the sort of person he could casually dismiss – he knew Ben too well. He'd known all along he wouldn't be able to entirely hide the fact that he was out of the dating pool from his cousin and one of his best friends. Still, there was no way he was going to mention what he and Dexter had together. He'd learned that lesson the hardest way imaginable and not for anything would he put Dexter at risk again. Besides, what was between him and the redhead was extremely precious and private and nothing he could share without permission. He could just imagine the look he'd get if he walked up to Dexter and said, _Hey, Dex, okay if I tell Kevin all about us?_ The resulting glare would leave third-degree sunburns straight through his clothes. Aloud he said, "I don't kiss and tell. I'm just saying you should have fun with it."

"I don't believe you."

"Whatever." He shrugged. "That doesn't change anything."

Kevin stared at him, narrow-eyed. "What's her name?"

"Not telling," Ben replied smartly, mentally kicking himself. He should have known Kevin would fixate on this.

"What she look like?"

"Not telling."

"So how far'd you get?"

"Oh, I'm _really_ not telling you that."

**_()()()()()()()()()() _**

"Nowhere, then."

Ben just smiled and shook his head and Kevin caught the faint smirk. It was a testimony to how well he knew Ben that the look gave him pause. No twitching left eye. No blushing. No stuttered excuses. He was too confident and smug - he was up to something . . . or someone. Kevin found himself staring, astounded at the notion of Ben Tennyson in a serious relationship. His mind raced through a dozen scenarios and imaginings, each more scandalous and charged (and patently impossible, given that this was Tennyson, the original girly nerd) than the last.

"Tennyson, you dog," Kevin finally sneered, playing for time and information. "You got one in every station, or what?"

"You trying to live vicariously through me?" He made a face and snorted softly in disgust at the suggestion. "Get a life, Kev."

"So what _do_ you have, lover boy?"

Ben stood and displayed the clipboard he'd been given earlier by the KND second-in-command. "I have work to do. See ya."


	2. Ponderous Ponderings

**Chapter 2: Ponderous Ponderings**

_ "I have work to do. See ya."_

They left it at that - or tried to. Ben went back to helping the KND inventory supplies and Kevin returned to fixing his car and the 2x4 tech vehicles the idiotic trainees here kept wrecking.

At least, that's what he kept telling himself to do over the course of the next few days. It was hard, very hard to focus on the vehicle's transmission with the thought of Ben making it with a girl playing in his head like a movie that had no plot and never ended. Tennyson was so square – positively virginal – and to picture him getting hot and heavy (not to mention naked) with anyone was plenty of ammunition for Kevin Levin's imagination. The work on the Camaro's transmission wasn't nearly complex enough to keep him fully occupied, but he tried his best to dismiss the thought. Unfortunately he was spending a lot of time with Ben lately - more than he had in ages - and it was hard to ignore his own mind as it was running rampant at the notion of chaste and naïve Ben Tennyson actually getting as intimate as he had implied. That just seemed . . . wrong. Like imagining a favorite cartoon character having sex. Ben was infuriatingly closed-mouthed about the whole thing, too. Was he teasing Kevin? Naa. He wasn't that good of an actor. Well, if there was a girl, maybe Ben was trying to make it seem as if he'd gone further than he really had . . .

Not that Kevin could blame him. He'd been guilty of the same impulse in his day. Gwen had proven to be infuriatingly hands off of late. She was mad about something – the whole war, probably – and instead of taking time and just being together, she always wanted to do something or frowned when he tried for more than a kiss. What was wrong with a little more intimacy? Touching? _Showing_ her how he loved her? When it came to Gwen, Kevin didn't mind a few parameters; heck, he didn't mind a _lot_ of parameters. He just wished she'd define them so he could start figuring out ways around them.

In the meantime, there was Ben. Ben and his mystery flame . . .

Probably the most remarkable part of this whole affair (as it were) was the fact that Tennyson had managed to keep his trap shut about it for so long (and it must have been going on for a while for him to have gotten as far along in the physical aspect as he seemed to imply since he knew that Ben would not just hop into the sack with the first female that presented herself). If ever there was a born talker, someone who simply could not stop chatting when presented with something new and exciting, it was Benjamin Kirby Tennyson. Kevin hadn't seen him much of late and after getting his butt handed to him by the Fusion Dexter in Citiesville a few weeks back, his friend was on light duty for the next month, hence his posting here at the most boring KND facility on the planet. Kevin gave it some thought, but he couldn't pinpoint the exact time Ben had gone from miserable and depressed (and depressing) and borderline malnourished to the annoyingly chipper and cheerful Ben he had now.

Oh, well. Annoying was better than sick and Ben had been well on his way to collapse, but it was close to a miracle that the brunet had managed to keep quiet for so long. Kevin's Osmosian birthright that allowed him to absorb energy and mimic materials served him well when it came to judging character and moods, especially with the Tennyson cousins and their Anodite heritage. Unconsciously both Gwen and Ben gave off a lot of energy, and prolonged contact with either allowed Kevin to get a good gauge of their emotions. If he allowed it, they could also influence his mood. Right now, he could use some of what Ben had, but his frame of mind was so set that he wasn't able to shake off his frustration. Ben was blitheringly, nauseatingly happy. Kevin knew why, but he didn't know who or when or how.

**_()()()()()()()()()()_**

To: DaBoss * DexLabs. com

From: smoothieaddict * ECF. org

Re: this weekend

Hey, any issues if I come by this weekend?

.

To: smoothieaddict *ECF. org

From: DaBoss * DexLabscom

Re: this weekend

Only if you _don't_ come by. Be warned – I have a Mayo Clinic-inspired torture session scheduled for Saturday morning. I won't complain if you make yourself scarce for the duration.

.

To: DaBoss * DexLabs. com

From: smoothieaddict * ECF. org

Re: this weekend

I'm sure your dad won't complain if I hang out, either. I'll stick around unless Mandy decides there's some meeting I can't miss, and even then I'll get out of it. I'll be there Friday night. Movie?

.

To: smoothieaddict * ECF. org

From: DaBoss * DexLabs. com

Re: this weekend

Thank you. I'm sure I'll need you.

The first live-action Sumo Slammers movie is playing at eight. I'll have the soda and chips ready.

.

Ben smiled as he finished reading his email, Dexter's heavily accented voice sounding in his head. Except for the therapy session, it promised to be an enjoyable weekend and even then Ben promised himself he would stay with Dexter no matter how unpleasant things got. Dexter was still undergoing hormonal therapy to stop his growth and give the leg Vilgax had shattered a chance to mend thoroughly. The necessary hormones wrecked havoc on his system and emotions, and Ben knew from talking to Utonium that Dexter was beastly to say the least for a few hours following each session. Ben was pretty sure he could handle Dexter, Boy Genius at his worst and hoped his presence would deflect a lot of the redhead's wrath. If Ben couldn't, he was sure Spidermonkey would have no problem mummifying him in spider web for the duration.

He was still smiling when Kevin walked into the command center of the Sector T tree house with some sort of broken vehicle part. Ben watched his friend talking to 348, the Sector T leader, displaying the part and pointing out what was wrong with it. He was pleased and rather proud that Kevin was here helping the KND and that he was getting along so well with the occasionally childish and rowdy operatives.

As Kevin dropped into the seat beside him, Ben closed out of his email account. The Osmosian glanced at the screen and smirked, thinking Ben didn't want him to see.

"I'm going to Downtown this weekend," Ben said. "Wanna come?"

"Going to see your girlfriend?" cooed Kevin.

Ben rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Uh, no, as a matter of fact, I'm not," he said with perfect honesty.

"Naa," he replied, looking at the broken piece of machinery in his hands. "I gotta get some parts for my car and Gwen's going to try to get out here for a day or two. I might have you pick up some stuff."

"Okay." The brunet nodded but didn't press. Much as he would have liked to see his cousin, Ben was rather relieved that Kevin wouldn't be coming. He wanted to focus on Dexter, especially since he was going to need Ben on Saturday morning, and he really didn't feel like defending himself against Kevin through the weekend. Somehow, though, he got the feeling that Kevin was equally glad to be on his own for a few days. "Just let me know if you call in an order and where and I'll get what you need."

"Deal."


	3. Home

**Chapter 3: Home  
><strong>

Because Dexter valued the sanity of his security force very highly, there were some very strict rules regarding the use of airspace around his corporate headquarters. Hover boards, jet packs, wings, rocket shoes, anti-gravity belts, hang gliders, bungee jumping, and other personal devices for the sake of gaining air were forbidden without prior authorization, and even then only a tiny handful of people were allowed to fly within a mile of the main building. For training and practice (and illicit racing) purposes, there was an old quarry a few miles through the woods behind DexLabs that was owned by Dexter and was usually filled with soldiers and KND operatives. So long as they didn't give Security too much grief, the children flying in the quarry were usually left alone.

Ben was one of the few exceptions to the no-fly zone rule. Those to whom flying came naturally were allowed to do so, and really, no one wanted to be the one to tell the Powerpuff Girls that they couldn't fly. It would be like telling Samurai Jack he had to check his sword at the door. Along with the Powerpuffs, Ben had been asked simply to notify Security when he was coming or going, and for the most part he was able to keep up with the request. Buttercup was the worst offender, but luckily most of the time she had one or both of her sisters along for the flight.

When Ben called DexLabs on Friday afternoon, they were expecting him already thanks to Dexter. He flew in as Jetray, breaking the speed of sound a few times for the fun of it and finally landing in the plaza in front of the headquarters building so that security could call ahead and warn the Utoniums. He stopped in to greet the security staff (it paid to stay on very good terms with Morton and his crew) before making his way through the maze of halls and checkpoints to get to the suite of rooms Dexter and his family called home when they were here in Downtown.

That Ben was starting to call home . . .

Dexter must have been waiting right at the entrance to welcome him. He had barely keyed the chime when the door was yanked open and a purple-gloved hand yanked him out of the corridor and into Dexter's arms, followed a moment later by a kiss that made Ben forget everything he'd wanted to say. One of the best things about being here with the Utoniums was that, quite accidentally, Dexter's three younger sisters had found out about them (cuddled up on the sofa in Dexter's bedroom together, no less). After a few moments of shock on Blossom's part, the girls had offered their full support. The fact that Bubbles and Buttercup thought the whole idea of their brother and his best friend being together was hot was a bit disturbing, but having them fangirl was better than them freaking out. So this little bit of freedom to walk through the door and get kissed silly was gratefully received. This was one more place where they didn't have to hide, and so they didn't. After a long, long exchange Dexter finally drew back, his hands around Ben's neck as he gazed up at his boyfriend.

"Hi, Ben," he said softly.

He smiled, leaning in for a second round with a whispered, "Hi, Dex."

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

The room was dark and warm and, Ben hoped, conducive to sleep despite the fact that Dexter had drank his usual amount of coffee (in other words, too much) at breakfast an hour ago. Right now a long stretch of sleep would be the best thing for him, but Ben wasn't sure that Dexter would be able to make it past the nausea he was experiencing. He lay curled up on the hospital bed, clutching a pillow and Ben's hand and breathing like he'd just run a race.

"Can they give you anything for the nausea?"

Eyes closed, Dexter shook his head, wincing. He had received a series of injections, silently enduring the discomfort, and now he was waiting for his system to process the furious rush of hormones that supplemented the medication he took daily. Ben had known that the treatments hit Dexter hard, but this was painful to watch and the hand gripping his was burning hot as if with fever.

"Want me to shut up?"

Dexter's eyes cracked open the least bit, and he managed a small smile and a croaked, "No."

"Sorry you gotta go through this, kiddo," Ben said softly, meaning it. He was doing his best not to feel guilty and failing rather spectacularly. Dexter had been going through this for months and he still had months more of treatment ahead of him. "Are you supposed to get this hot?"

With a dismissive grunt, the redhead snapped, "Yes. Talk about something else. Not food, either. Uck," he gagged, twisting as a pang of nausea rose up at the mention of food.

Ben stood, nudging Dexter slightly with his hip so that he could sit on the edge of the bed and wrestling his right hand away from the younger teen's death grip to swap with his left. Speaking softly, he told him all about the trainees he was dealing with at the Sector T tree house, all the while rubbing Dexter's back. A long sigh of appreciation escaped the redhead as he listened to the dull, nonsensical antics of green troops undergoing training. Ben watched him closely, hoping he'd fall asleep soon. As he spoke he was struck at how dense some of the new KND could be, and the occasional smile or snort out of Dexter told him his boyfriend was still awake. He just went on talking about nothing, gently trying to soothe away the discomfort, doing all he could to make up to Dexter a little bit of the guilt he felt for being the cause of Vilgax's attack that put him in this situation.

Gradually, unable to resist the power of a back rub, Dexter fell asleep, nestled around the pillow and Ben's hand and leaning heavily against Ben's leg. He smiled, enjoying the sight of Dexter without his glasses and the opportunity to watch over him. Had they been in Dexter's rooms by the lab or even in the Utoniums' suite, Ben would have laid down right beside him, but here in DexLabs Medical he had to be content with sitting close and playing the role of a friend, not a lover. That was fine. That was why he was here right now. When they were alone he could be both.

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

"Isn't Kevin with you at the tree house?"

They were sitting on the floor in the guest bedroom that was slowly turning into Ben's bedroom as he spent more and more time here, seeing as how the Professor refused to let them share a room (or, more accurately, a bed) outside of extraordinary circumstances, of which there had been several recently. Utonium knew perfectly well that he couldn't keep them apart, nor did he ever want to, but he did have standards that both young men respected. It was warm and comfortable in here and far more interesting than Dexter's bedroom, which had all the coziness and personality of a hotel room.

Ben looked over at Dexter where he leaned against the bed, wondering what prompted the question. The redhead was focused on the video game they were playing (_Sumo Slammers Road Rage II_, where all the cars were shaped like sushi). Even though it was still pretty early in the evening they were both dressed for bed. Dexter's round of hormone treatment had not gone as smoothly as any of them would have liked and it was evident that he would not be awake for very much longer.

"Yeah," Ben replied, trying to keep his tone casual. "He's helping fix the KND vehicles. They keep crashing them."

Dexter nodded. Ben waited.

"It's good you're not there alone," Dexter finally said.

He smiled faintly, knowing what prompted the comment. He had been alone for so long, months and months after that terrible (and stupid) breakup when they'd returned from Nevada. He had grown bitter and worn and he'd learned exactly how badly he needed to connect to others. How badly he needed to love and be loved. Dexter and Kevin had never met, but they'd certainly heard a lot about each other from Ben. Dexter's interest was more genuine than Kevin's - Kevin thought of money and attitude when he thought of Dexter and he had a long list of derisive nicknames for the genius, whereas Dexter, once he established for himself that there was no call or cause for jealousy, found Kevin's standards and conduct astonishing and amusing and occasionally scandalous.

"I think he likes a bit of distance from Gwen," Ben said aloud. "She's been on a bit of a tear lately."

"Yeah, Blossom . . . yeah," was all Dexter could say by way of understanding, gesturing helplessly at the mention of the tribe called Girl.

Ben watched him for a few moments, wondering if he dared voice his concern over Kevin's new pastime of figuring out Ben's love life. As far as Ben was concerned it was pretty simple: Ben + Dexter = good. Ben - Dexter = disaster. Easy math. Add Kevin to the equation, though, and things were getting unnecessarily complicated and tense. He would have liked to talk (all right, _complain_) about Kevin's nosy hobby, but he knew that not only would that just worry Dexter - something his love interest did not need at the moment - but that Dexter might just do something about it. While his handling of Rex Salazar's advances had been nothing short of epic, he didn't think similar forms of retaliation would work so well on Kevin. It didn't matter. Ben was absolutely determined not to let Kevin or Gwen or anyone find out about him and Dexter. He knew the Osmosian would have no mercy not because he was in love with another guy, but because he was in love with Dexter.

"Ben? What's wrong?" asked Dexter, forgetting the game to gaze up at his boyfriend with curiosity and trepidation. He smiled as Dexter's car smashed into a wall and exploded in a shower of rice.

"Kevin isn't always the easiest person to get along with," he said, giving up on the game and draping his arm over Dexter's narrow shoulders. He leaned back against the pillows piled behind them, pulling a willing Dexter with him. "It's nice having him there but . . ."

"It's nice to get away?"

"Yeah."

Dexter snuggled against his side, closing his eyes. "It's nice to have you home."

Home. There was that word again. His definition of it was slowly evolving to be based entirely around the boy in his arms. Here was his reason for fighting this war, his security, his protector. So many things he held right now. It was quite a wonderful sensation, empowering and frightening and inspiring all at once. Ben leaned his chin atop Dexter's head, feeling the Boy Genius relax against him and knowing he was equally content. "Nice to be here, Dex."


	4. The Most Marvelous Discovery

**Chapter 4: The Most Marvelous Discovery**

"Last one," called Ben, carrying in the final box of oil filters. He added it to the impressive pile of engine parts and supplies that he and a few KND volunteers had lugged into the garage and turned to Kevin with a smile. Immediately he knew that his friend's weekend had not gone as well as planned (and not nearly as well as his own). There was a distinct chill in the air and you knew it was bad when Kevin's expression was so dark that not even a few hundred dollars worth of car parts could lighten it. Ben, however, had a secret weapon which he pulled out of one of the bags.

"And I got you some -"

"Gimme those!" exclaimed Kevin, snatching the large bag of M&M's clean out of Ben's hand. He brandished them at the brunet, waving the candy under Ben's nose. "Best thing that happened to me all weekend."

"So . . . Gwen couldn't make it?" Ben asked softly as his friend started in on the chocolates.

Kevin grunted, which was answer enough, but the taste of chocolate and pretzels together seemed to cheer him up a little after a few mouthfuls. He gazed at the younger teen, trying to show a bit of gratitude for Ben picking up the supplies and saving him a trip to Downtown. He held out the bag to share as he asked, "How about you? Good weekend?"

Ben knew that if he wanted any chocolate, he'd better get it now. He grabbed a handful of the colorful candies and deliberately downplayed his own time away to spare Kevin's feeling (and himself of Kevin's snide remarks). "Yeah. I stayed with the Utoniums. Dexter wasn't feeling too well, so things were pretty quiet, but it was a good time."

"See your girlfriend?"

Ben smirked and through a thick mouthful of chocolate managed to say, "Nope."

"Huh. Guess we're both in the same boat."

Ben chuckled. "Wear your life vest. You'll need it. Listen, I'm going to bring my stuff to our room. I'll see ya later." He popped a few more of the candies in his mouth so that he wouldn't have to say more and headed for the stairs. He could feel Kevin's dark eyes following him, and he knew it was too much to hope that a single weekend had cured the Osmosian's curiosity.

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

"_Dex?"_

"_Hmm?" was the automatic response as Dexter, intent on reviewing upgrades for the nuclear reactor that powered DexLabs, barely noticed his name being called._

_Ben smiled, loving seeing the Boy Genius at work. He had never met anyone who could focus as quickly and completely as Dexter, and he was quietly, happily fascinated as he sat on the arm of the sofa (the only spot not coated with papers) and sipped his coffee as he absorbed the cuteness before him. _He sat staring at Dexter's ear, waiting for the younger boy to notice he was here and enjoying the view. It was too early on a Sunday and Ben had followed Dexter down to the living room a few minutes after he heard someone moving around the house._ The world had ceased to exist for the redhead outside of pages of numbers and symbols that looked like hieroglyphics to most people, Ben Tennyson included. Dexter's lips moved slightly as he read and a slight frown creased his brow as he found something he didn't agree with in the calculations. Completely charmed, Ben decided it was time to distract his boyfriend just because he could. He thought about what his next move should be for a few minutes, and then reached out.  
><em>

_It was then that Ben made the most marvelous discovery._

_Dexter was ticklish._

_Full-bore, squealing-just-thinking-about-it ticklish._

_It started with a little grab to the redhead's ribs. Considering how many layers of clothing Dexter wore even now (he rarely left his bedroom unless he was fully dressed), Ben was surprised it had any effect at all, but Dexter gave a little squeak and sat up straight, only now realizing Ben was with him._

"_Don't do that!"_

_Delighted with the results, Ben grinned. "Do what?"_

"_What you just did," Dexter said indignantly, blushing pink with his accent coming on thick and strong._

"_What did I do?"_

"_You know exactly what you did, Mr. Tennyson."_

"_What, this?"_

_He used two hands this time and was rewarded with a giggle as Dexter tried to shift out of range without crushing any of the papers. Dexter swatted Ben's hands away._

"_Yes, that!"_

"_You're ticklish!"_

"_No!" exclaimed Dexter, but his smile gave the lie to the protest._

_Ben inched in, his fingers moving slightly as he edged closer. "Dex-ter!"_

_Heedless of his paperwork, Dexter backed away, keeping Ben's hands in sight and biting his lip in anticipation of what he feared (and hoped) was coming. _

"_Stop that, Ben!" he said, just on the verge of panic. He pointed a purple-gloved finger as if it would somehow halt Ben in his tracks._

"_But you're not ticklish," he reminded with a smile._

"_Noooo," was the thoroughly unconvincing claim as Ben climbed after him and –_

_Wild, happy, squealing laughter rose up as Ben attacked. Dexter twisted and writhed beneath him, but made no effort to escape as he was very lovingly tickled and teased until he was gasping for air and his paperwork was scattered all over the floor. He was laughing so hard he was crying, and Ben could not stop grinning at the giggly, high-pitched mirth. He was poised to pounce a second time when a pillow bashed him in the head from on high, knocking him atop Dexter and producing another round of laughter, muffled this time until they dislodged the feather-stuffed projectile. They looked up breathlessly as Professor Utonium, unshaven, unkempt, and unhappy at being woken up on a Sunday shuffled past them in his bathrobe and bunny slippers to get coffee. _

"_Sorry, Dad," panted Dexter, flushed red._

_The Professor scowled, not really mad as he grunted, "No, you're not."_

_Ben and Dexter both snickered, fighting to keep silent with indifferent success. The Professor was absolutely right - as usual._

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

Kevin watched with cool interest as Tennyson walked away, scooping up his gym bag and talking to one of the KND recruits as he went. He knew without pressing further that Ben's weekend had been a lot more fun than he was letting on, and he wasn't sure if he was grateful for his friend's restraint or if he felt annoyed because Ben was mollycoddling him. Then again, nothing was going to make him happy right now after such a disappointing weekend and he knew it. It had been good thinking to bring candy, and though the ornery part of his mind wanted to classify it as a consolation prize, he knew that Ben had simply gotten him something he knew Kevin would enjoy. He was trying hard not to direct his anger at Ben, but his best friend was providing a close, convenient, and incredibly frustrating target.

Part of his grumpiness at Gwen's absence – and his admittedly misplaced anger at Ben - was the fact that he had wanted to grill her in person about lover boy's significant other. On the subject of relationships, Ben was more inclined to open up to his cousin and he had hoped that somewhere along the line Ben had told Gwen something. Anything. It was driving him nuts.

He ate another M&M, sitting down to think and cool off. He knew Tennyson wasn't being completely honest with him. He certainly wasn't lying – Ben was a rotten liar when it came to people he was close to – but he certainly wasn't telling all, and _that _was what stuck in Kevin's craw.

"_See your girlfriend?"_

"_Nope."_

Who was she? Was it a she? It was hard to tell with Ben. Kevin had long been convinced the kid could swing either way, not that he cared. Over the years he'd dealt with so many alien species with their many genders and notions of sexuality that it took a lot to shock him. Besides, Ben had turned into so many aliens since he was ten that he was probably lucky he even remembered he was a guy at this point. Kevin had met Ben's parents, too, and if ever there was a couple to raise a kid without a hint of bias, it was Carl and Sandra Tennyson. Near-hippy, granola-eating, tree-hugging parents had resulted in a kid in touch with his feelings and just plain touchy-feely. If Benji came home with a girl, guy, or alien, Kevin knew Ben's parents wouldn't care so long as their only child was happy.

He closed his eyes, regretting the idea of Ben getting it on with a guy almost instantly. It lodged in his brain even more firmly than the thought of Ben with a girl.

_Gwen. Think of Gwen. Don't think about Ben and -  
><em>

He was thinking it.

_Crap._


	5. The Question of Ben

**Chapter 5: The Question of Ben**

The next few days were something of a study in frustration for Kevin Levin as learned exactly how hard it was to stop thinking, how deeply annoying Ben could be without trying (or even knowing), and how fixated he was on getting to the bottom of Ben's love life.

Wait, did he just think that? Laying beneath a SHORTbus as he tried to get at the thing's carburetor, he mentally slapped himself at using Ben, bottom, and love in the same thought because . . . yeah. He was thinking things he really didn't want to be thinking, _shouldn't_ be thinking about his best friend, and he was coming out of this confused, dizzy, and thanks to Ben's stubbornness, none the wiser. All the work in the world could not take his mind off the question of Ben – or if not the question (because Kevin had asked plenty of times), then the lack of answers . . . of Ben. Or whatever.

The worst part about this was that every time Kevin thought about it (it being sex, which, he being a guy, was just about always, even in his sleep, even if it was Ben starring in his thoughts and not Kevin himself), he imagined Ben with a guy about his own height and build, with longish black hair and – _crap_. He was not thinking about himself with Tennyson. No, no, no. He was not thinking about himself making out or even having sex with Ben. He did not want to- He was not – _crap_. He was. That was infinitely worse than imagining Ben with a girl or even some unknown guy. Why couldn't he just erase the whole thought process from his poor, innocent brain and get back to daydreaming about Gwen like he was supposed to? Every time he neared success, though, Tennyson would pick just that moment to stroll on by in those high-tops and skinny jeans and Levin was back to square one, square zero if Ben happened to have taken his jacket off, because that tight, black t-shirt seemed specifically designed to send blood pressure (and other important bits of anatomy) skyrocketing.

The fact that Ben was blissfully oblivious to the mayhem he was causing in Kevin did not help the situation at all.

It wasn't so much that he was starting to fantasize about Ben – which was disturbing in and of itself - but his body was completely ignoring his brain's directions to cut it out and enjoying every imaginary minute of it. If he had to be horny, let it be for Gwen. His girlfriend. He did not want to start thinking _both_ Tennysons were hot (even if they were). It didn't help that Ben and Gwen shared the same sleek build and had the same green eyes and long legs or that in a rear view Ben did more for jeans than Gwen.

God, why had he noticed that? He closed his eyes tightly and gritted his teeth as he lay with his head beneath the transport, wishing the rest of him would fit so he could hide from Ben and the infinitely nosy KND and from his own imaginings. If anyone came in here and made a snide remark, they would be dead before they hit the ground.

"Gwen," he muttered to himself, trying to get her through his head. He imagined her giving Ben a hard shove clean out of his mind as he drilled himself on what he wanted, not what was in front of him. Red hair, not brown. Mana, not Omnitrix. Skirts, not jeans. Girl, not boy. "Gwen, Gwen, Gwen, Gwen, _Gwen!"_

His heart sank as someone cleared their throat, and with a savage move he rolled the dolly out from beneath the SHORTbus to find the last person on the planet he wanted to see smiling down at him. Ben, in those high tops and skinny jeans and god help him, no green jacket. Kevin stared and swallowed, praying Ben didn't call him on his (painfully obvious) state. At least Tennyson would assume it was his cousin that Kevin was thinking about. But no, he was wrong. Captain Oblivious was in command.

Thank god.

"Ben," he corrected, pointing at his chest and speaking as if to an idiot or dog and sounding completely amused. "Not Gwen."

"I know," growled Kevin, out of patience but willing to take abuse if it meant he didn't have to explain. "What do you want?"

Ben held out a cup. "I don't want anything. Number 46 said you wanted juice when she swung by before."

"Oh. Yeah. Sorry. Been thinking a lot lately."

The younger teen handed over the drink. "Keep practicing. You'll get the hang of it eventually."

"Like you'd know."

"Got Gwen on your mind?"

His eyes roved up those long legs to that small waist and all the way up to wide eyes as green as Gwen's. With a little sigh, Kevin said, "I'm trying my best to."

To his consternation, Ben dropped down and sat beside him, leaning his arms on his bent knees and annoying Kevin in ways he couldn't describe and totally weren't fair to him or Ben or Gwen.

"How go the repairs?"

"Are you the one teaching these kids to fly this thing?"

"Course not," Ben replied, defending his pride and his flying record. "I don't land, I crash."

"S'why I asked. Just establishing who I have to beat up for sending me the same jalopy twice in a week."

"Not me. I'm teaching battlefield tactics and close combat. You should come by for a few lessons and we'll teach 'em how to demolish Mechs."

He could not imagine anything more dangerous than grappling with Ben right now. Heck, he was grappling enough with him in his imagination. "Naa. I was never one for school. Can your shoulder handle it, Hero?"

Ben automatically glanced at his arm. The worst of the bruises were almost gone, though it still gave him a twinge now and then. "I don't do any of the moves at full speed. I just demonstrate on 141 and he takes it from there."

_Lucky 141_, he thought, then mentally kicked himself again. He had to stop this. Now. "Don't break yourself or your cousin will kill me."

"Don't worry. I want me back in action even more than Mandy does. I do have to be back at DexLabs Medical next week. Dr. Cardon wants to be sure getting electrocuted didn't fry my brain, I guess."

"You got one to fry?"

Ben rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Gee, didn't see that coming."

"I can drop you off," Kevin abruptly volunteered, hoping he didn't regret the offer. "I'm heading to Bellwood next weekend and Downtown's not too far out of the way."

Ben cast a skeptical glance at the dismembered Camaro, its innards scattered across a work bench.

"Don't panic. It'll be back in one piece by then," assured Kevin.

He smiled. "Okay. Thanks." He stood, and Kevin made it a point to look for a wrench as Ben dusted off his butt. "Time to get back to pretending to work. I'll see ya."

"Later," said Kevin, not quite able to keep his eyes from wandering up to watch as his friend walked away.


	6. Analyzing    Ben?

**Chapter 6: Analyzing . . . Ben?**

This was quite possibly the biggest mistake ever made by Kevin E. Levin, and given some of the doozies he'd pulled in the course of the last nineteen years that was saying something.

". . . step deep, past him, and slide your hand up to his chin at the same time."

He let him upper body be pushed back as Ben spoke, aware of the dozen or so sets of eager eyes watching every move. Ben's hands on him seemed to burn, and his hip rested against Kevin's thigh as he demonstrated and explained the self-defense move.

"What if you miss?" asked one of the KND.

"Get 'em by the throat, or the face, or just clothesline him," Ben replied, showing each move. "It won't take much to spill him over once you break his balance." With a smile he released Kevin, sparing him from being dumped on the mat. Kevin was half-tempted to follow through the same move on Tennyson, but he knew Ben's shoulder wasn't up to that sort of horseplay.

Come to think of it, they'd never really done any roughhousing. It seemed odd, given they were both guys and the amount of combat they'd seen, not to mention the amount of time they'd spent together. Kevin frowned, wondering at himself and if this sense of having missed out on something was for real. Why was he speculating about wrestling with Ben when he should be dreaming about wresting with Gwen, preferably in a bikini? Was it simply a question of availability, or was there something wrong with him?

"Hey, Kevin, can I borrow you for a sec?" called Ben, waving him over to help a particularly short KND operative. He kept his hand on the small of Kevin's back to support him as he spoke. Kevin took a deep breath, trying to focus on the freckled little girl before him, not on the fact that Ben was touching him in a place so vulnerable and intimate. "Okay, Tori, block . . . step in deep, no past his feet. Here, I'll show you again."

He was aware of little else besides Ben in closer proximity than he'd been in ages. He could feel the heat from his body, a faint smell of sweat and soap, and he found himself staring at Ben's ear as if it was the most fascinating thing he's seen since . . . since Gwen in a gown.

_Gwen, Gwen, Gwen. Think about the sexy redhead, not the sex –not the brunet. _

God, he had to stop this. But how?

At least they were going to have a long weekend away from here and each other. It couldn't get here fast enough. Kevin knew there was no way he'd be able to stand a whole weekend cooped up in this tree house, let alone cooped up with Captain Oblivious and his skinny jeans.

Those jeans figured prominently in Kevin's thoughts over the next few days, to the point where if the Camaro's transmission wasn't still in pieces, he would have driven far, far away a long time ago, probably never to return since he didn't seem to be getting over his Benji-mania. Escape wasn't an option at the moment, however, so at first he watched Ben closely, ostensibly to look for clues as to the who (and, yeah, the what) Ben was in this super-secret relationship with, but there was always the nagging feeling in the back of Kevin's brain that he was really focused on those jeans and the fact that they fit Ben a little too perfectly.

When it became obvious to Kevin that his eyes were on Ben's back pockets too much, he tried to avoid his friend even though they were sharing a room in the tree house. That didn't work too well since space was limited, but there was no way on god's green earth Kevin was ever going to confess what was going on in his head in regards to Ben supposed love life, so he sucked it up and opted for cold showers. Lots of cold showers. Morning, noon, and night. His hair was rarely dry anymore. Ben, who was still in disgustingly good spirits, ignored Levin's snappishness and was his usual annoying, talkative self as he went on and on about how much he was looking forward to good food (if it wasn't frozen pizza or chicken fingers, the KND couldn't cook for beans) and coffee when they got to DexLabs. The temptation to strangle his friend was strong, but he resisted, mostly because he didn't want to explain any of this to Gwen.

Luckily Kevin was going back to Bellwood as soon as he dumped Tennyson off at DexLabs. Gwen was going to be there and they had planned a trip to the lake that was their usual hangout. Some alone time with Gwen was just the cure he needed to get over . . . whatever the heck he was doing right now. Obsessing? He didn't like the sound of that. Analyzing? Yeah. Analyzing.

He lay awake at night, analyzing Ben.

Wait.

Analyzing . . . Ben?

Him, Kevin Levin. Analyzing Ben Tennyson.

Well. That was one for the books. Comic books, maybe, given how he tended to think of Ben as pretty shallow. It seemed, though, that Ben was not quite as superficial as Kevin had let himself assume. It seemed he had a whole other life on the side, one he wasn't sharing with the likes of Kevin Levin.

Why? Why wouldn't he tell the guy that was _supposed_ to be his best friend who he was dating? Why was he so deeply invested in this frustration? Why the hell did he care so much? All because Ben wouldn't kiss and tell.

Or, tell Kevin, to be precise.

God, he needed a life!

Why not? What was he hiding? Was he protecting this mystery girl? (_Girl. Think girl, Levin. Girl, girl, girl, girl, girl. G-I-R-L. Not - crap. Guy. Make him a blond, for god's sake, and get rid of that long hair!_) Kevin closed his eyes, longing for sleep and uselessly pondering who it might be that had not only managed to claim Ben's affections, but hold them and keep quiet at the same time. Most girls would be dancing in the streets to have scored the Wielder of the Omnitrix as their boyfriend, but there hadn't been so much as a squee from anywhere. Ben was so flighty most of the time, and he rarely shut up, so it was amazing he still managed to be quiet about something so huge. What sort of girl would attract him? Better still, what sort of girl would put up with him? His mind went completely blank, like turning off a TV. Fine. He caved. What sort of _guy_ would attract Ben?

Clearly one that wasn't Kevin Levin.

He was shocked to find himself disappointed with Ben. He hadn't really considered it before, but if either Tennyson had offered themselves to him the way he was now thinking, Kevin would not refuse. He knew he loved Gwen deeply. He wanted and desired her. What he had going on right now for Ben was something different. Passion based on convenience? He didn't quite see that. This wasn't the sort of interest that would fade or get old quickly. Or did he just not want to share Ben with anyone else? Or, rather, anyone else _first_? He knew he was territorial, but did that make him some sort of perv? Ben or Gwen - it just seemed right, that was all. He'd known Ben so long – longer than Gwen, even – and if Ben was into guys, weird as it may be, Kevin just thought that _he_ would be that guy.

Was this some sort of personal failing on his part, or since Ben knew he was attracted to Gwen and supposedly unavailable, was he substituting some guy for Kevin? Did Kevin want to be replaced? After some thought, he decided the answer was _no_. He certainly couldn't think of anyone that could replace him. And it wasn't as if Ben needed Kevin's approval or permission to fall in love . . . or find a substitute. Not really. Did all this possessiveness make him gay? Or want to be gay? Maybe bi. Or did it just mean he had an ego the size of an Denebian battle cruiser and he wanted Tennyson to feed it? He wasn't sure, but none of the answers seemed to fit him, Ben, or the situation.

Except for the big ego part. He thought Ben was full of himself? If anyone needed to get over themselves, it was Kevin E. Levin. He rolled to his back, staring at the ceiling in the dark, cramped room, listening to Ben's long, slow breaths, and wishing he could rewind events far back enough to put a stopper on his curiosity.


	7. Make Love, Not War

**Chapter 7: Make Love, Not War**

Thursday. Thank god it was finally here. Kevin had stayed up late Wednesday night and got up early in the morning to finish his work on the Camaro's transmission. Even though their room was closest to the garage, it didn't matter that he was making a racket at the crack of dawn. Tennyson could sleep through an Alien Death Hammer concert.

Ignoring the hopeful adoration of a few KND fangirls he'd acquired, he took the car out on a fast (literally) shakedown drive. Back in the tree house, he took his time making a few adjustments. They were leaving around noon, which meant he could dump Tennyson off at DexLabs and make it to Bellwood in time to pick up Gwen at college (unlike her cousin, she refused to interrupt her education for the sake of something as commonplace as an interplanetary invasion, though she did opt to go to the local college for basic classes before planning on something more ivy league) and go get some dinner. Tomorrow this time, they'd be heading to the lake for a few days of nothing but quality together time (and probably a few hours of watching Gwen do homework). Hopefully so much Gwen would be what it took to shake the image of getting it on with Ben from his mind, because his brain wasn't content with just R-rated fantasies anymore.

Nope. A few more hours and he'd be a Benji-free zone. Kevin glanced up at the sound of the familiar voice. Ben, finally awake and past that early-morning zombie stage he had before he got some coffee into his system, walked by the garage, talking on his cell phone and gesturing like the person on the other line could actually see him. This was also a guy that yelled at the TV, so it wasn't surprising he'd act as animated on the phone as he did in person. He smiled and waved at Kevin, but didn't stop. It was just as well. Kevin took a farewell stare at those hot, skinny blue jeans, determined to exorcise this frustration and longing for his best friend. He had to save up those feelings for Gwen.

Grabbing a wrench, he maneuvered around the Bezian plasma mortar launcher to get to the transmission for a few adjustments. It was tricky work since the mortar launcher was right in the way of where he needed to be, but with a bit of patience he was able to manage it. Once done, there was little left for him to do but clean up and think, two things he wasn't too fond of doing right now. Grabbing a rag, he set to cleaning his tools. Ben chose that moment to come walking back, still yammering away. Wasn't he supposed to be working? And didn't he ever get tired of talking? Kevin shook his head, but he also watched as Ben walked toward the stairs, listening to him laugh at what the person on the phone said.

It was a little galling that Ben didn't trust Kevin enough to tell him who it was he was seeing . . . dating . . . maybe sleeping with. No. Not maybe. He was waaay too happy and smug and relaxed in the midst of a global crisis not to be getting some hot and heavy action off of the battlefield. Benji, you dog. You lucky little whore. What did he have that Kevin lacked?

A willing partner, apparently. Levin glowered, putting down the first tool with a bit too much force as he picked up the next one. His relationship with Gwen was moving at a snail's pace despite his best efforts while Ben practically glowed in the dark with hedonistic satisfaction 24x7. Maybe he'd spill to Gwen . . . probably not. Tennyson was annoyingly noble when it came to things like promises and Gwen wasn't much more apt to carry tales out of school or war or whatever.

Was it one of the ECF soldiers? He'd been hanging out with them a lot, especially the Valkyries, and some of them were pretty likely even if they dressed like a Norse reject. A Highlander? Guys in skirts? Ben might like guys, but Kevin doubted he'd be into cultural cross-dressing. A nurse in Medical? Ben had been pretty soundly thrashed and he'd spent a while at DexLabs recovering. He could have hooked up with whoever was taking care of him all that time. Maybe it was someone Kevin knew already. Most KND were too young to consider, though there were quite a few that had been retained as operatives into their teens with this war raging. Juniper Lee? They got along really well and she was pretty hot. Frankie? Too old (not that Kevin had _any _issues with older women). A Kanker sister? He shuddered. Kevin would kill Ben for his own good in that case. One of the Powerpuffs? He spent a lot of time with them when he was at DexLabs. Naa. Too bossy, too cutsie, too ferocious. DeeDee? Too brainless.

Dexter?

Kevin paused, rag in hand, staring off into space as his mind tried to picture . . . oh, good god. Dexter. He tried not to burst out howling at the thought of that uptight midget getting down and dirty with anyone, let alone Ben. It boggled the imagination. Friends they may be (for reasons known only to them), but they were also polar opposites. Besides, sex usually required a person to get at least partially naked and Kevin could not imagine Dexter in less than two layers of clothing even to take a shower.

He lowered his hands to the work bench, a laugh welling up in his throat. He had to support himself with both arms as he leaned on the table and laughed himself breathless at the very idea of that accent being used to seduce anyone. A pocket calculator might fall for him, maybe a computer, but Tennyson? Levin wasn't even sure Ben ever knew what the heck Dexter was talking about most of the time.

At least Dexter was good for a laugh in these mentally trying times. Kevin didn't know of much other use for the little carrot-topped squirt, except for the fact he had more money than he knew what to do with (and for the NASCAR team – he had to give him credit there). He tried again to picture the genius with Ben and after Dexter stood on a box and puckered up like a fish, his thoughts piled up like a train wreck and spared him any permanent damage. Nerd love. It was a small reprieve, but it beat thinking about himself and Ben getting nak-

_Crap._

At least he had time for another cold shower. Or two.

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

"You're distracted."

Ben slowly turned, letting his eyes rove up and down Dexter's thin frame in a manner meant to be sexy but coming across closer to lecherous as he said, "Well, yeah, I'm with you, aren't I?"

Dexter rolled his eyes. "You've been reading Hallmark cards again, haven't you?"

"I especially like the ones 'from the cat.'"

With a cough into his coffee, Dexter hastily put the cup down, wiping his mouth and trying not to make a mess as he choked out a laugh. Ben grinned, pleased with himself for generating such a big reaction. He tried to stretch and immediately all limbs came into contact with metal and plastic.

He had tried to make his way straight to the lab when he'd arrived, but after checking in with Security, confirming his appointment with Medical on the next day, saying 'hi' to half the people here in DexLabs, and getting hauled into Mandy's office for a quick debriefing, straight turned into something of a zigzag course. They were crowded together in the cockpit of the Megabot 4000 prototype, Ben's arrival being just the excuse Dexter needed to take a coffee break. The mech was smaller and more powerful than the other Megabots Dexter had built over the years, and while it was designed for just one person, Dexter was so small he really only counted for a half. Now that he was in here, Ben rather liked being jammed in so close and tight. It just drove home how petite Dexter really was, and heaven help him, but he found that so appealing.

"He shoots, he scores," gloated Ben.

"Oh, does he?" purred Dexter, giving Ben his look right back. Pulling off his glasses, he twisted in the cramped pilot's seat to face Ben, swinging a leg over to straddle his lap. "The potential for innuendo associated with that claim is almost infinite."

"Gwen always said I wasn't living up to my potential."

"What does Gwen know?" asked the redhead softly, leaning in to kiss his boyfriend.

No work got accomplished for the next half hour though plenty of calories got burned. They probably would not have come up for air until dinner time if Ben hadn't taken command of this mission and lowered Dexter back onto the Megabot's control panel, leaning his hands on either side of Dexter as he prepared to pounce. He had eyes only for Dexter, not the dizzying array of buttons and levers and controls beneath his hands as he bent down -

"_Launch sequence engaged,"_ said a feminine voice over the cockpit's speakers. They both gasped in shock, gaping first at each other, then at the controls of the Megabot. _"Laser targeting system locked and missile safety system disengaged. Preparing to fire."_

A scream of "No! No! Disengage! Disengage! Oh, crap, they're armed!" erupted as Dexter fought to disentangle himself from Ben's arms. Ben did everything he could to get the hell out of the way as Dexter frantically tackled the controls, trying to do a dozen things at once with hardly enough room in here to turn around.

"_Null-Void cannon activated. Acquiring target."_

"No! Not that! I can't see!" wailed Dexter frantically. "Where are my glasses?"

"Here! Here! Here!" Ben grabbed the glasses, then promptly dropped them. They clattered down to the narrow floor space. "Oops."

"Ben, what are you doing?" squawked the Boy Genius as Ben tried to dive after the glasses and ended up with his head beneath Dexter's lab coat. Ignoring him, Ben groped on the floor, feeling between Dexter's feet and his own until his fingers closed on the heavy glasses.

"Here!" He held them up and Dexter snatched them out of his hand. "Ack!" rang out along with the alarms and computer voice as Dexter jabbed himself in the eye before getting them on his face. Ben tried to move, but Dexter was leaning too hard against him in order to reach the controls. Ben stared at his high tops and tried to figure out which of his aliens could help stop what was essentially a walking battleship. None, really, since only Echo Echo or Nanomech would fit in here and Dexter really needed Brainstorm. Dare he try it anyway? He considered the idea, then abandoned it. With his luck he'd turn into Humungousaur and squash Dexter like a pea.

"_Warning, automated launch will commence in ten . . . nine . . ."_

Launch? Inside the lab? They'd slam into a layer of solid rock more than a hundred feet thick! He could feel a rumbling vibration as the rocket system in this thing powered up and a dull roar began to echo through the underground laboratory.

"Dex . . . ?" he asked anxiously, glad the scientist was so small since he was getting smushed here. Not that it would matter if this thing took off and splatted itself on the granite overhead.

"_. . . five . . . four . . ." _

"Shut up!" Dexter yelled at the computer, slamming a control.

"_Commencing emergency shut-down. All safety systems engaged."_

Ben finally managed to sit up, pulling free of the long white coat covering his head, glad to breathe again, if at all. Dexter was panting heavily, and that alone told Ben what a close shave they'd just had. Reaching up, he grabbed Dexter around the waist and pulled him down to sit on his knee. The younger teen was pale and disheveled and his glasses were askew on his nose. For a long while he just stared at nothing before finally looking at Ben.

"New rule, Mr. Tennyson," he said faintly, pushing his glasses into place again. "No making love in the Megabot."

Fairly certain Dexter wouldn't be able to pass up a chance to have his two favorite things – Ben and science – at the same time, the Wielder of the Omnitrix suggested, "At least not after the weapon systems are installed?"

Dexter considered for a fraction of a second. "Yeah, okay."

Ben grinned, then chuckled, and then they were both laughing (a little hysterically) at the situation and one another and out of sheer relief. Finally Dexter slid off of Ben's knee, somehow managing to stand between his boyfriend's legs in the cramped space.

"So until they're armed . . ."

Finished Ben10, "Make love, not war."

"And this one is armed."

"Well, in that case, Dex, let's make coffee instead."

Dexter sighed. "Good idea. Then you can tell me why you're distracted."

The redhead wasn't looking when Ben grimaced. Amidst all the fuss of almost blowing themselves up, he'd rather hoped Dexter would have forgotten that little detail.


	8. Good Frustrations

**Chapter 8: Good Frustrations  
><strong>

"So . . . Mr. Tennyson . . . what has you distracted?"

They were in the kitchen of Dexter's private suite, brewing coffee (the only edible thing Dexter knew how to make well besides aspirin) and eating brownies the executive dining room had sent down via Dexbot. As he spoke, Dexter poured fresh coffee into Ben's usual mug, a green DexLabs mug that Ben had snagged from the family suite because he said coffee tasted better served in something green. Too amused (and in love) to argue, Dexter just rolled with the thoroughly unscientific claim, countering Ben with his own purple mug.

Knowing excuses would be seen through instantly and challenged, Ben poured milk into both cups before settling down in his chair a bit more. He leaned heavily on his hand as he stirred the coffee and tried to figure out how to say something without saying it at the same time. Doublespeak around a polymath was a tricky dance.

"Ben?" asked the master of delaying tactics, not fooled for a moment.

"It's Kevin," he admitted. "He's been acting weird . . . er."

"How so?"

"He's frustrated, and gets more frustrated that I'm not . . . frustrated. Too." He paused. "Did that make sense?"

"After a fashion. So because you're his friend, you're supposed to share Kevin's emotional state even though said state involves his girlfriend, your cousin?"

Dexter had such a way of stating things. Ben made a face. "He seems to think so."

"Does he not see how grotesque that is?"

"He's not looking at it that way. He's been tense for a while. If he had any sense he'd ask Gwen to marry him right now and give her a huge engagement ring that she could show off to all her college friends. She needs commitment before she goes any further."

"Perhaps you should tell him that."

"I'd love to, but he doesn't like to be told what to do."

"Too bad for him," muttered the redhead, sipping his drink.

Ben smiled at Dexter's defensive tone. It was so nice having a territorial billionaire for his boyfriend. "So . . . he's been weird lately. Pushing himself really hard with working on the KND vehicles and cold showers five times a day."

Elegant red eyebrows arched over the brim of his glasses in astonishment as Dexter laughed, "Seriously?"

"At least. His hair hasn't been dry all week."

Dexter pursed his lips and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying not to erupt with laughter at Kevin's dilemma. He set his coffee aside and pressed a gloved hand to his mouth. "Sorry," he squeaked, trying to spare Ben's friend.

"Go ahead and laugh, Dex. I did."

When Dexter finally calmed down – Ben laughed along with him for the fun and relief of it, and just because Dexter had a funny laugh – the younger teen took a deep breath.

"Is there anything you can do, you think?"

"Lay low and try not to look smug."

That set Dexter off all over again, and he ended up sprawled on the table opposite Ben, red-faced and breathless. Pushing himself up, he leaned on his hand and slyly asked,

"So is it true?"

"Is what true?"

"You're really not frustrated?"

"Well, maybe a little, but in a good way. Nothing on Kevin's scale."

"Good frustration, hmm? I like the sound of that. I believe that merits further attention."

Ben looked at the Omnitrix as if checking the time. "I don't have anywhere to be until dinner."

Dexter snorted. "As if I'd let you leave. Now where were we before the Megabot so rudely interrupted us?"

"I was about to give you a hicky."

"Oh, well," exclaimed Dexter, plunking his cup down. "Have at it, Benjamin."

Ben grinned. Eat your heart out, Levin.

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

"So what are your plans for the weekend?"

They were walking back to the Utoniums' suite, standing a little closer, perhaps, than they would have a year ago, but keeping their hands to themselves and speaking very softly.

"Doctor tomorrow. Depending on what he says, maybe some extra physical therapy. Mandy wants me to stop by. Usual stuff. I should be free by noon. You?"

"I have some routine maintenance on the nuclear reactor to tend to tomorrow. That will take until noon if all goes as expected and then I have to go through decontamination."

"How long will that take?"

"An hour in the chamber, half an hour in the shower."

The magic word. If Dexter lusted after the Omnitrix, then Ben lusted after Dexter's shower, that monument to steam and hot water. He looked at the redhead from the corner of his eye, wondering if he could combine the two passions. After all, Dexter got a huge dose of Ben and science today. It only seemed fair that Ben should get his dose of Dexter and hot water.

"Shower?" he asked coyly. "Can I scrub your back?"

"What? You want to – Ben, but I'll be . . ."

_Naked._ The word seemed to hang in the air between them. Dexter's eyes were wide, but Ben smiled, delighting in the blush creeping up his boyfriend's cheeks. For someone who could be so shameless with his lips and tongue and placement of hands, Dexter could be awfully self-conscious and demure when it came to his skin being exposed to air, let alone anyone actually seeing said skin.

"You want to – want to-"

"Scrub your back."

"In the shower," managed Dexter, his mind and his mouth working at two different speeds.

"Yup."

"When I'm . . ."

_Naked._

"Yeah," finished Ben, slowing his steps to match Dexter's as the genius gradually lost the capacity for forward locomotion.

"And you'll be . . ."

"In there with you."

A noise of pure, stunned nonsense escaped Dexter as he tried to wrap his brain around this situation. Ben let him percolate, knowing Dexter had to consider every factor and argument before he could reply. This was one of those instances that required genuine focus on Dexter's behalf, but Ben wasn't going to let him logic himself out of this offer so easily. If the redhead honestly didn't want to go so far as to be seen without clothes right now, Ben would just have to bide his time, but he knew full well that Dexter's fantasies and imaginings were wide and varied. Having them come real was a tremendous step if they chose to take it. It was scary and exciting and exactly what he meant by being frustrated in a good way.

"Just think about it, Dex. Hot shower. Hot boyfriend. You won't have your glasses on, so you won't see a thing . . ."

"Uh . . ." was the start of a protest that had no foundation as of yet as Dexter's mind rejected the notion of not being able to see Ben in the shower. He drew a breath to answer, finger raised to make a point, then stopped when no answer occurred.

"If you want, I'll wear your glasses so I won't see anything, either." He looked Dexter up and down appraisingly. "Or I could wear a lab coat and goggles and-"

He broke off as Dexter gripped his arm and he knew he must have hit on a particular favorite fantasy. There was a pause as Dexter mastered himself, and when he spoke it was through gritted teeth.

"Not out here, Ben."

"Is that a _no_?"

"No."

"Is that a _yes_?"

"No," insisted Dexter weakly.

Ben grinned, completely satisfied. Dex hadn't agreed, but what was far more important, he certainly hadn't refused.

Dexter was still trying to formulate an argument when they reached the suite, and once inside he still hadn't organized his thoughts to the point where any of them would be of any use. He sat down in the living room and stared into space, his mind awhirl. Ben left him to gape and went to the kitchen to fetch a drink. Professor Utonium was there making coffee, and he looked out at his son with a slight frown.

"What did you do to my kid?" he asked, pouring Ben some coffee.

"I offered to show up in a lab coat and goggles."

Utonium rolled his eyes. He understood - or at least he thought he did as he muttered, "His birthday is in July."

"I'll keep it in mind. Thanks, Professor."

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

". . . another fifteen minutes here in the decontamination chamber, and then I have to shower," Dexter said to the slowly rotating comm cube.

_"As soon as you're cleaned up I want to see you and make sure you don't glow in the dark,"_ Dr. Cardon replied. _"Everything okay? No sudden sunburns or sprouting of antennae?"_

Dexter smiled. "The maintenance was routine. It took a bit longer than estimated, but there were no problems."

_"Good. I'd hate to think we were sitting on top of another Chernobyl. I'll see you as soon as you get here."_

"Thank you. Has Ben been to see you?"

John Cardon made a face. Ben amused him as much as he tried the doctor's patience._ "He got here late, so he had to wait, and Mandy called for him halfway through the examination. He said he'd try to catch up with you once you were done."_

"Oh." Dexter tried to sound surprised in order to mask the sudden jolt of disappointment he felt. "Oh. Thank you, Doctor. I'll see you presently. Dexter out."

The glowing cube faded and he sat back on the bench, feeling strangely hurt and lonely. While it was true he hadn't given Ben a concrete answer to his offer - or was it a request? - he hadn't expected Ben to interpret his uncertainty as a refusal. Ben very understandably wanted to nudge their relationship along and while in theory Dexter was all for taking things further, in practice he found himself . . . shy. It was easy - perhaps too easy - to talk the talk, and while he was perfectly willing to walk the walk, he realized that he needed to take _very_ small steps. He was highly conscious of the physical differences in them - differences that would only become more pronounced as time went by. Ben's face had lost much of the roundness and soft lines that had marked his teen years, and his voice had deepened if only a little since Dexter had first met him. The young man Benjamin Tennyson held no less appeal for Dexter than the teenager. He loved that strong jaw and cocky smile and even though he wasn't exactly tall, the young genius thought that Ben's height suited him perfectly.

And then there was Dexter: short, scrawny, destined to sound like a child for years if not the rest of his life. He sighed, looking down at his hands and petite frame and wondering what Ben saw.

A bell chimed and the door opened, allowing him to leave. He set the head gear in a bin for cleaning, but stayed suited up as he made his way toward his rooms. He didn't really need to shower, but it was an added precaution his father insisted upon. Ten minutes later he was knee-deep in hot water standing under a cascade, not trying to clean himself yet, just enjoying the warmth and feel of the water and wishing it could wash away the nagging sense that he had gone wrong with Ben. He'd been rather certain that Ben would view their conversation of yesterday (and the extensive teasing that followed before dinner) as an invitation. It wasn't that he minded (much) the whole naked-showering-together suggestion, it was simply something he needed to get used to. It seemed that the opportunity had slipped away, though, and he regretted it deeply and wished he knew of a way of opening that same door again.

Dexter sighed, putting his head right in the waterfall, listening to the many shower heads sending water down like rain while steam rose like fog. He reached for a soft brush. The downside of working on the reactor was that he literally needed to be scrubbed raw to make certain no possible trace of radiation had permeated his gear. No burns here, but he was certainly going to feel like it once he-

"Want me to get that?"

A small gasp passed his lips as he turned, blinking at the water pouring over his head. Ben was there behind him, a pale form with dark hair and a bright band around his wrist. He was close enough that Dexter could see his arms and face were tan while his chest was not, and the younger teen did not dare to look away from Ben's face.

"Can I?" the brunet asked, reaching for the brush.

Confused and relieved and too off-balance to be happy just yet, Dexter handed it over, his whole being focused in on the feel of Ben's fingers against his. Ben smiled, never looking away from Dexter's face as he said, "Turn around. I'll get your back."

He obeyed, not sure of what else to do, his heart suddenly hammering in his chest until he felt the brush cleaning his shoulders in slow, precise movements. Ben was here. Naked. In the shower. With Dexter. And he was . . . washing Dexter's back. As promised. By the lightness of his touch he knew Ben was afraid of hurting him, perhaps afraid of frightening him, definitely trying to calm and reassure him.

He closed his eyes, trying to let Ben's intent work. After a few moment he swallowed, and then, carefully articulating in a vain attempt to hide his emotions, said, "You have to scrub harder, Ben. You can't hurt me."

Ben paused, then quietly said, "Yes, I can, Dex. But I don't want to."

He was silent, uncertain of what to say. Luckily, Ben spared him, resuming his gentle washing as he said,

"I could do it once really hard, or I could do it like this ten or fifteen times. I like my way more."

"So do I," he breathed gratefully. With those words, relief, love, happiness, and a thousand other feelings suddenly filled Dexter. He turned, wrapping his arms around Ben in an attempt to show what he could not say. Ben's skin was slick and wet and the arms that engulfed Dexter were so strong and warm and he knew that no matter what, he knew Ben would love and protect and just be there for him . . . with him. Nothing, not even a war, could break this trust. Nothing.


	9. An Uncomfortable Truth

**Chapter 9: An Uncomfortable Truth**

"Well, lookee who had himself a good time this weekend," announced Kevin as Ben pulled the seat belt across his chest. He paused to stare at the older teen, thinking to himself _. . . and look who didn't._ After a second he shook his head and locked the belt in place, settling back in the seat. Was he really that obvious? He hadn't just had himself a good weekend; it had been fantastic. Once Dexter had gotten over his almost-paralyzing fear of birthday suits (or at least having Ben see him in his), their time together had gone from a little tense to totally intense.

"Yeah," Ben agreed, trying to sound casual and not too smug – a difficult task, considering the fact that he'd spent most of yesterday and a good chunk of this morning making out with a cute, smart, filthy-rich redhead with a Ben10 fixation.

"_What do you want to do today, Dex?"_

_The genius smiled, crawling closer until he lay atop Ben, his slight weight a warm and welcome addition to the covers. At first Dexter squinted, then leaned in until they were almost nose-to-nose and he could (mostly) see without his glasses._

"_Focus on you. All day long."_

_Which was Dexspeak for saying he fully intended to lay right here, well within kissing range, the livelong day. That was quite the fine idea in Ben's mind, especially since, it being Saturday, _Dexter had the day off_. The only thing expected of them was to show up for dinner at six. Until then, they intended to practice non-verbal communication._

"_Aren't you a little far away to see me without your glasses?" hinted Ben. _

"_Right again, Mr. Tennyson," agreed Dexter, and without hesitation he pressed his lips to Ben's in a hungry, eager caress that Ben returned with equal passion as he let himself be pushed down into the pillows._

"It was fun."

"Fun. Right."

Silence. Ben resisted the urge to fill it with his usual chatter and instead gazed out the windshield at the rain. Kevin made no move to start the car. He just sat still, trying to wait Ben out, trying to pry more information out of him.

After five minutes of nothing happening, Ben finally looked at his friend. "You gonna start the car?"

"You gonna tell me who you're seeing?"

Why Kevin was so obsessive over this, Ben had no idea, but he said nothing. He was on the receiving end of a long, hard, almost ugly glare from the Osmosian before Kevin sullenly turned the key with unnecessary strength and the Camaro roared to life. Ben kept his peace, reluctant to generate another such strong reaction out of his companion, and they rode in silence – angry on one side, ill at ease on the other - for an hour or more.

At a truck stop they got more gas and something to eat. Evening was falling along with the rain and everything was dreary and gray. Still caught in the afterglow of his time with Dexter, Ben just smiled to himself as he looked up at the clouds, reveling in the memories of this weekend.

_For most guys their ages, it was all about sex and the act of finding release for the instinct burning inside them. The primal drive was offset – not quite balanced – by society's expectations of behavior as they learned the rules and conduct for this complex, frustrating, exhilarating game. That was most guys. Not Dexter. Ben had never met anyone that could lock down his emotions so completely. He'd never really been a child, being possessed of too much intelligence and ambition to indulge in normal childish behavior. Mentally he'd gone from infancy to about forty by the time he was seven, leaving his emotions to catch up as best they could. There were a lot of contradictions in that brain of his, but one thing was certain – seduction was as important to him as making love, and there was a lot more to making love than just plain old sex (not that he was knocking sex- Ben was biding his time until Dexter's self-control went down the tubes - but with Dexter there were depths he had never imagined and would never have experienced with anyone less)._

_He and Ben wanted the same thing: each other, and for the most part they were willing to be patient as they explored the boundaries of their relationship and each other. Though Dexter had given control of their relationship to Ben, Professor Utonium had put the fear of his wrath into Ben Tennyson. Now and then Dexter would surprise him, but for the most part the ball was in Ben's court. Having no desire to frighten the redhead, he exercised caution so that this relationship (he still wanted to grin every time he thought about Dexter being his boyfriend) moved at a pace both young men could be comfortable with (Dexter more so than Ben, but then the Professor wasn't about to turn his only son into a shrew or dandelion like he would to Ben if he suspected Dexter was being pressured into something he didn't want to do). Left to his own devices, Ben suspected that he would have missed out on countless nuances and pleasures that being with someone could give. Dexter understood better than Ben that the chase was as pleasing as the capture and it was as much fun to pursue as to be pursued. If he taught Ben to appreciate subtlety and undertones, then undoubtedly Ben taught Dexter about wild abandon and the joy of simply doing what felt good and right. _

_They had time and they were taking it, though Ben was certain that Dexter would never make it to eighteen years old before he surrendered to his growing want and ravished Ben (as Dexter so charmingly phrased his intent). All for being ravished by a certain redheaded nerd in glasses, he was looking forward to the day and had his surrender planned out in great detail. In the meantime what he had right now with Dexter was supremely satisfying and he knew things would only get better._

Kevin was staring at him, watching him as he crossed the parking lot, and Ben hastily yanked himself out of Dexter's arms and back to the here-and-now. He frowned as he felt that hard gaze fall upon him once again. Kevin's weekend hadn't gone very well, it seemed, and Ben hesitated to ask for details lest his friend explode. Well, he'd explode eventually, but Ben didn't feel like hearing it just yet. The weather the past three days had been less than conducive for camping or even being outside much, and he knew Kevin's plans had involved time at the lake. Unless he had come up with a few alternatives, Kevin's weekend had probably been shot. It was unfortunate, because the Osmosian had been working long and hard, not just on getting his car fixed in time for the weekend but on the KND vehicles and weapons as well. He deserved time off and a chance to forget about the invasion. That Ben had enjoyed a good – no, _great_ weekend – and was not going to be forthcoming with details just seemed to compound Kevin's anger.

"Soda?" he asked, holding up a can of Kevin's favorite drink. "Didn't shake it or anything."

"If you did, you're walking."

Ben snorted at the notion. He could turn into Jetray and fly laps around the Camaro if he wanted. Mostly he was here to keep Kevin company on the long drive back to the Sector T tree house, though by the looks of things his friend didn't exactly want company (at least Ben's) or to improve his mood.

There was a picnic table sheltered by an overhang to side of the truck stop, and they sat atop the table and ate junk food and watched the rain and Ben got a slight idea of the depth of Kevin's interest in his love life.

"So what did you do all weekend?" demanded Kevin.

Ben shrugged, swallowing a mouthful of hotdog before saying, "Hung out mostly. Saw Dr. Cardon. Saw Mandy. Got a pending assignment when I'm finally off this light duty stuff. I had dinner with the Utoniums a few times. Got-"

"Laid?" hinted Kevin.

"Paperwork done and some training in," Ben finished in perfect honesty, not appreciating anything about the interruption. shaking his head, he threw a crust of bread to an eager seagull watching them from a few yards away. The bird darted forward and snagged his prize, then waited for more.

"Uh-huh. That's not the only thing you got in, hero."

"Why are you so worried about what I'm up to in my time off?"

"Not worried, Tennyson. Curious."

He rolled his eyes. "Same difference. Do I bother you about your time off?"

"No, which is weird in itself. You act like who you're going out with is a state secret."

"And what's wrong with that?" he wondered, throwing the last bite of hotdog to the seagull.

"Is it a state secret?"

"Yes. Men in black kicked my door down and threatened to audit my taxes every year for the rest of my life if I talked."

"And wuss that you are, you caved."

Ben sipped his soda. "Totally."

"Tell me this much: is it a girl or a guy?"

He could not keep from glaring. "And that matters why?"

Kevin was quiet, and Ben knew that he was pondering the simple inquiry. Finally he said, "Just curious."

"Just nosy," corrected Ben, not at all convinced by Kevin's affected, offhanded air.

"Whatever."

"I think it's time you got a new hobby outside of who I may or may not be seeing."

"Tell me and I'll stop."

"Not even you believe that," he shot back, rolling his eyes.

"So what's this person got that's so special?"

"What's Gwen got that's so special?"

"Pfft. Everything."

"There you go. You read my mind. Keep this up and I'm going to start thinking you're jealous, Kevin."

The silence that followed this statement was deafening. Ben turned to look at Kevin, but his friend would not meet his eye. He had spoken in jest but it seemed he had hit upon an uncomfortable truth. Ben sipped his soda, trying to distract himself and cover his unease. It occurred to him that embarrassing as it may be, this revelation might quell Kevin's inquisitiveness. He hoped so. He was weary of the tension his relationship caused and there was no way he could reveal that he and Dexter were together. It would be as dangerous as it would be damaging to them both, a lesson he'd learned all too well with Vilgax.

Just as it could be dangerous and damaging to his friendship with Kevin Levin. Kevin would never understand or see what Ben saw in Dexter and would not keep his silence. Luckily he owed no one – especially not Kevin – an explanation.

When finally Kevin looked at him there was an expression in his eyes that Ben had seen once before, when they were children: hunger. Back in the day Kevin had coveted the Omnitrix and the power and promise it held, and he had gazed upon the alien watch with a desire that bordered on lust.

Now the look was leveled at Ben.

Not the Omnitrix.

Ben Tennyson.

He steeled his features, refusing to react. The look, the very idea was frightening and unwanted. Kevin was his friend. Dexter was his friend and lover. Ben asked for nothing more out of either young man. He _sought_ nothing more, especially out of Kevin.

Then the moment passed and Kevin looked away, standing and dusting off his jeans as he casually asked,

"You ready to go?"

He threw away the rest of the food, no longer hungry, and turned away as the seagulls fought over the scraps. "Yeah. Let's go."


	10. Hungry

**Chapter 10: Hungry**

Ben did everything in his power to avoid Kevin over the next week. There didn't seem to be any alternative. After that ride back to the tree house, even though they'd hardly exchanged another word, there didn't seem to be anything left to say. Ben was extremely aware of the smoldering, hungry look Kevin had given him, but he wasn't so sure that his friend was conscious of it. Almost painfully uncomfortable with the situation, Ben was rather desperate for the whole thing to blow over. Ideally he would have liked to see Kevin go back to Bellwood and reconnect with Gwen. The weather was mocking them; having rained itself out on Sunday, the sky was now clear and blue and by day the sun was as warm as summer and by night the air was crisp and smelled of leaves. It was, in short, perfect.

Bloody weather. Ben held it and its bad timing at least partially responsible for Kevin's foul mood. Well, that and the fact that Ben had no forthcoming complaints – or intimate details – about his time at DexLabs. He eventually got the whole, short story of the weekend with Gwen that wasn't. Weather, Gwen's homework load, and a last-minute dinner party planned by Aunt Natalie had all conspired to ruin Kevin's planned time with his girlfriend.

The Osmosian, too, would have liked nothing more than to leave, but after a battle with some Train Wracks in Hometown, Sector T leader 348 had begged him to stay a little longer and help get their S.C.A.M.P.E.R. back into service. The Fusion Monsters – half train, half Fusion Matter - had done an outstanding job of trashing the vehicle, and against his better judgment, Kevin stayed. Ben's KND trainees, while not at the battle, had seen the immediate aftermath. Cognizant of what they were up against, the children set to training with grim determination. The situation allowed Ben to keep to a slightly different schedule than Kevin most of the time. When they did meet up, mostly at meals, he tried his best to be casual, all the while trying to distance himself a bit from the intensity of Kevin's interest.

Their conversation on the way back from Downtown was weighing heavily on his mind, and he gave it a lot of thought. Ben couldn't quite understand why Kevin should be so focused on this one aspect of his life. Kevin seemed to think he had some sort of ownership over Ben's friendship and even Ben himself. It was more than a little disturbing that Kevin would treat him that way, but there was no denying that Levin was territorial, prone to selfishness, and jealous over things he held dear.

Ben, however, was worried most about Gwen. What would she would think or do if she found out that her boyfriend's attention was straying and her _male_ cousin was the target? Ben had no issue with being in a relationship with another guy, but Kevin clearly suspected. He couldn't help but think that suspicion fueled this sudden, uncomfortable, unwelcome fascination in his love life, not to mention his butt. It seemed more than a little perverse. He hoped Kevin would be able to master this inclination before anyone – Gwen especially - got hurt, because he simply wasn't interested.

Should he tell Gwen? Outside of a lot of staring and the odd leer, Kevin hadn't _done_ anything and he could easily deny his conduct as wistful thinking on Ben's part. Gwen, he thought, might believe the same, not having witnessed Kevin's conduct and prone to side with Kevin over Ben on most issues.

Dexter? He didn't dare let Dexter find out. Kevin would be a wisp of vapor before Ben could complete a sentence.

Still, he was also worried that some slip-up might reveal that it was Dexter whom he was seeing. Dating. Hopelessly in love with. He was trying to be as careful as possible and guard every word, exhausting (and aggravating) as it was. Not for anything would he endanger the Boy Genius again. That was one promise he would never break, no matter the cost. Never. He didn't dare call Dexter just to talk, either, for fear of Kevin finding out and drawing conclusions. Besides, he doubted he'd be able to hide his tension from Dexter very well. He prayed for a Fusion attack, for the return of the Fusion Dexter or his own pathetic doppleganger, a new assignment, for the toilets to explode, anything, but no deal. It didn't help his case that he had some wonderfully vivid memories of the weekend, starting with the scene in the Megabot all the way through to late Sunday morning when Dexter decided his back wasn't clean enough from the three showers they'd taken the day before (not including that hour decontaminating). Ben was having a very difficult time keeping from smiling like an idiot 24x7 at the memory of Dexter dripping wet and laughing as Ben found a few more ticklish spots.

He did see Dexter via hologram the Thursday after they got back. Mandy had called a meeting of the chief operators in the war, and that included Ben10 and 348. Kevin came along just because. They were joined via hologram by the Sector V command team, Rolf representing the Urban Rangers, Drew Saturday, Major Glory, Juniper Lee, and Samurai Jack, among others. The recent battles were discussed, Dexter commented about some upgrades to the jump platform system and a new generation of hover boards that was about to be released. Since he had been idle most of the month Ben had little to contribute besides an update on when he would be allowed off light duty, but he did have one question that he saved until all the regular business was done with.

"Has anyone seen Albedo?"

By the curious looks everyone exchanged, he had to assume the answer was _no_.

_"You miss him?"_asked Juniper Lee teasingly. Long-time acquaintances, she flashed him a quick smile.

Ben grinned back at her. "Not likely, Junie. I just prefer to have an eye on him."

_"Was he in Citiesville during the battles there?"_asked Drew.

They looked to Dexter, who had done the analysis of the long and ugly battle in that burg. Quietly the Boy Genius replied, _"Computress lost track of him after the third wave of Fusions. He was in the Battersea section of Citiesville when the Stalagticians attacked. We don't know what happened to him, but he's usually close to you, Ben."_

All eyes turned to 348, the Sector T leader, though Ben sneaked a glance over at the redhead. Dexter was watching him right back, the merest trace of a smile on his lips as he looked at his boyfriend. A warm glow seemed to fill Ben, and it was with great effort he turned his attention back to the matter of Albedo.

"No sign of him in Sector T," said 348. "We've got standing tracking orders on him. Do you want a search party sent to Citiesville?"

"We don't have the manpower to spare," Ben said before Mandy could. "If anybody does spot him, do me a favor and let me know, okay?"

_"You heard the man,"_ grumbled Mandy. _"Anything else? Good. Get back to kicking Fusion butt, people."_

The holograms flickered out of existence, Ben waving goodbye to the group at large and resisting the urge to wink at Dexter. Kevin, who was usually bored with anything even remotely official, lounged back in his chair, asking,

"How the heck can anyone tell what that little twerp is saying? Was that even English?"

Drawing a deep breath, battling for patience, Ben frowned. "I don't have any trouble following Mandy."

Kevin tried to convey what an idiot he thought Ben was being by a single look. It was fairly effective, but Ben was immune to him. "Not Mandy, Dexter! Do you actually know what he said?"

"Uh, yeah, and he's not hard to follow if you actually pay attention, Kev." He shook his head, annoyed. Dexter had done nothing to earn Kevin's criticism. They had never even met.

Levin made a face. "And I'd want to do that . . . why?"

"Because he's a lot smarter than anyone else, including me and you."

A snort answered. "Everyone's smarter than you, Benji."

"Then how come I know what he was talking about and you're the one without a clue?" he asked, smirking in Kevin's face. He was rewarded with a scowl. Ben stood, gathering up his green jacket and stretching his stiff shoulder. He moved slowly, trying to work out the kinks as he remembered a long and luxurious massage from small, warm hands. God, what he'd give for a hot shower like Dexter's right now . . . Heck, what he'd give for Dexter right now. Smiling to himself, he headed out to go find something to eat. "Hungry?" he called back an invitation to Kevin.

**_()()()()()()()()()()_**

_"Hungry?"_

Interesting word choice. Kevin had watched Ben stretch like a cat, mindful of his shoulder and the mostly-healed burn on his back. Lithe and graceful in motion, Ben had reached high enough to show a slice of belly beneath that black t-shirt. He'd seen Ben without a shirt on before. Plenty of times. Until now, he'd never given it a thought. The motion was innocent enough, but somehow that flash of pale skin was so erotic and sinful that Kevin wanted nothing more than to hitch that shirt up and feel the smooth skin beneath. He didn't even know how he wanted Ben to react. All he knew was that he wanted to feel Ben writhe beneath his hands.

Just as someone else had . . .

Why now? Was it because of his crap weekend? Or being stuck here with him and not Gwen? Was it because Gwen was so snappish and Ben wasn't? Because Ben was getting some action and he wasn't? Or was it because Ben was seeing someone, so now he was off limits and that little glimpse of flesh was forbidden fruit? Was this sudden appeal because Ben had been taken out of circulation? Was he actually jealous of some nameless, faceless person? Someone he had probably never even met?

Yes.

With a burning, aching jealousy.

There was a distant, happy look in those green eyes as Ben pulled on his jacket. Kevin knew Ben's smile wasn't for him. He was smiling at whoever it was he had fallen in love with.

And it wasn't Kevin.

With effort Levin grunted, "You go ahead." His voice was strangely flat and he fought to keep his reaction in check.

"Okay," called Ben brightly, seemingly unaware of the effect he was having. "See ya later."

"Yeah," muttered Kevin, watching him hurry to catch up with 348. "Later."

Hungry?

He was starving.


	11. 11x10

**Chapter 11: 11x10**

The day had been a long, tiring one, and he was glad to see the plain little cubby hole that was his room here in the tree house. Even that lumpy rack of a bed was a welcome sight. His shoulder was aching from a long session of combat training and just after dinner a shipment of supplies had arrived from Sector V and all hands had been pressed into service offloading the truck and inventorying the equipment. It had taken hours, and the fact that it had started to rain midway through had not helped the situation or the tempers of some of the Kids Next Door. Add firefighting to his list of duties, because Ben had fought to keep a few operatives from flaring up in anger. He could already imagine himself dropping into bed, hugging that so-called pillow, thinking of Dexter, and going straight to sleep.

Kevin wasn't here yet despite the late hour. On top of the delivery, a KND squad had returned earlier today with some of their equipment in desperate need of repairs and Kevin had pitched in to help. That was good. With a bit of luck he'd be asleep before the Osmosian got back. Ben sat on the edge of his bed and tried to decide if it would be worth changing into his shorts and t-shirt to sleep or if he should just flop into bed right now.

Well, either way the sneakers had to come off, so he concentrated on untying the black high tops. Immediately his mind wandered to last Saturday. Dexter had volunteered to remove Ben's sneakers for him (when, for the third time that day, he suggested they take a shower) and managed to turn the process into a one-man burlesque show. Slowly, gracefully, he had teased the laces loose and ran his purple-gloved fingers over and around Ben's foot and calf, a coy look on his face as he took almost fifteen minutes to remove one shoe. Such a simple thing and Ben had almost lost his mind by the time his sneakers were off. Just his sneakers – Dexter hadn't even started on his socks. God help him the day Dexter targeted his jeans. Who would have thought an act so mundane could be so sexy? He never would have imagined that Dexter could exalt his footwear to be objects of worship. He smiled to himself as he remembered those elegant fingers and the fluid motions as Dexter undressed his feet, and he grasped and pulled the end of once lace with his fingers cocked just as Dexter had. He really had to ask Dexter to help him get out of his clothes a lot more often . . .

"Never would've pegged you as having a foot fetish."

He looked up. Kevin was leaning against the door frame and staring at him in open amusement at his dreamy expression. Ben felt himself blush as he pulled off his sneakers. That decided it – he'd sleep in his clothes and sort himself out tomorrow. He really didn't want to change in front of Kevin right now. Had he waited up for Ben to get back just to confront him? At a glance Ben could tell that Kevin was spoiling for a conflict, and he knew that until he gave Kevin a fight, they'd never get any rest. That was fine. Ben had taken about all he was going to take. If it was a fight Levin was after, Ben was happy to oblige and he had plenty of shot in his locker.

"Or maybe your boyfriend does," suggested the dark-haired young man, mocking him.

Ben rolled his eyes. "That's getting pretty old, Kevin. Drop it."

"No."

"Why not?"

Levin smirked. "Because you want me to."

"Time to grow up, don't you think?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"Why do you care so much about who I'm seeing?" demanded Ben, hoping to be able to reason with his friend.

"Why is it a secret?"

"There are these things called promises. Ever hear of 'em? I made one not to tell, and I intend to keep it. It's not your business, so back off."

He spoke sharply, his tone betraying how fed up he was with Kevin's conduct. Kevin, however, was in a rare mood and just seemed to feed off of Ben's annoyance.

"Or what? What are you going to do?"

"Why is this important to you? Because I'm keeping part of my life private? I don't belong to you, Kevin. I'm not your property. You don't have any claim to me or what I do."

A little snort escaped Kevin and he said, "Gee, Benji, and here I thought we were friends."

"So did I," snapped Ben. "You're certainly not acting like one. You've been a complete jerk this past month and you're not even trying to straighten things out with Gwen."

"How would you know?"

"She's my cousin," he reminded. "I talked to her this morning and I got her half of what happened last weekend. Next time you make plans for her time, make sure you talk to her first. She was really upset you got so bent out of shape when she couldn't just drop everything and hang out with you. Some of us have lives and obligations beyond _you."_

"Like promises not to tell?" mocked Kevin in a soft and dangerous voice.

"You're catching on. The next step is to grow up and start acting like an adult."

Another smirk, and Kevin just gestured dismissively as if Ben was the one who was being unreasonable. With a growl Ben shook his head and stood to put the sneakers in the corner so neither of them tripped on them. As he straightened he was astonished when Kevin stepped up and seized his left wrist. Before he could resist or voice any protest, Ben was yanked around and shoved against the wall with enough force to knock the wind out of him. Instantly Kevin pressed himself close and hard against the length of Ben's body, pinning him. He could feel Kevin's heavy breaths and their faces were inches apart.

"What?" demanded Kevin, holding him tightly as Ben stared at him in shock. He gave Ben a cocky little grin, using his greater size and strength to advantage, knowing Ben would hesitate to hurt him. "I'm good enough for your cousin but not for you, huh?"

"Get off of me, Kevin!"

He tried to struggle and twist, but Kevin just ground himself closer still, hips to hips, making his want known. He held his mouth right by Ben's ear as he breathed, "You're worse than Gwen, you little tease."

Ben's heart was racing and breathing was difficult. The tension and frustration he'd sensed in Kevin had come to a head. Why tonight, he had no idea, but there was a hungry gleam in those dark eyes that sent a wave of panic through the young man.

Kevin was completely serious.


	12. Shattered

**Chapter 12: Shattered  
><strong>

_A/N Be warned! I jacked the rating up on the story for this chapter. Things get violent and nasty._

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

Kevin was close enough to Ben that he could feel the heat of his body and the brush of his breath against his cheek. Pinned, caught completely off guard, Ben could only stare, wide-eyed and speechless and just what he wanted right now. Perfect.

"I'm sick of you strutting around all smug and self-righteous and being pushed off to the side for someone else. I'll wait for Gwen but I've had it with waiting for you, Tennyson!"

He slammed Ben against the wall again, stunning the brunet and following the strike by locking his mouth over Ben's. It was everything a kiss should never be – forced, violent, cruel. Long and hard he ravaged Ben's mouth, caring only about himself and his own satisfaction right now, giving in to the desire to dominate, to punish, to take what he felt was due to him.

In desperation Ben dropped his weight straight down. The only thing he managed to do was break that travesty of a kiss and wrench his injured shoulder hard enough that he gasped in pain. Kevin laughed softly, matching the maneuver and maintaining his hold. He leaned in close again, his crushing grip on the younger man's wrist relentless as he held the Omnitrix where Ben could not reach it.

"Bad enough to think of you with a girl, Benji," he whispered, his lips brushing Ben's throat. "But picturing you with a guy . . . a guy that's not me? Uh-uh. Not fair. Not after all we've been through."

He struggled, but he had no leverage. "Let go of me, Kevin!"

"Not 'til I'm done." He pressed his knee between Ben's legs, forcing his way closer. "You owe me this."

He could smell sweat on Ben's skin a moment before he crushed his mouth in another brutal kiss. Ben shuddered, trying to escape, but the attempt only fed the Osmosian's desire. Kevin was much stronger, and the Wielder of the Omnitrix had been blindsided. For a long time he was forced to endure Kevin's lips against his own as his tongue invaded Ben's mouth. Kevin's free hand strayed beneath Ben's T-shirt, pinching and teasing the smooth flesh beneath his calloused fingers. Slowly he smiled to feel Ben tremble at his touch, sensing triumph and reveling in his power over the smaller teen. Tennyson's taste, his heat, his struggles were maddening. His hand wandered down, working its way beneath the waistband of Ben's jeans even as his lips sought Ben's throat. The brunet let out a growl of fury at the added violations.

"Payback time, Benji," he panted, his hand stroking sweaty skin. He grinned at his own satisfaction, heedless of Ben's protests. "I'll even make sure you enjoy it."

Teeth clenched, Ben hissed, "Don't do this."

"You want it," sneered Kevin, reveling in the strength of Tennyson's reaction.

Ben looked at him squarely, his eyes blazing. "Not from you I don't, Levin."

Perhaps it was the desperate, savage tone. Perhaps it was the fear and disappointment in Ben's face. Perhaps it was the uncharacteristic use of his last name. Something about his reply made Kevin hesitate and in that moment Ben struck. His leg was already between Kevin's and in one sharp motion he brought his knee up, catching Levin squarely in the groin. A gasping, wheezing cry was torn from Kevin's throat and he lost his hold on Ben instantly. The younger man shoved him away and then with all his strength he smashed his fist into Kevin's jaw and then brought both hands down together on his back. The combined blows dropped Levin to the floor and he lay there, stunned and shocked and reeling in pain as the reality of the situation hit him full on. He raised his eyes to Ben's, and the fury he saw there was as sobering as it was frightening.

What the . . . what the hell had he tried to – no. What the hell had he just _done_?

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

Stepping away, Ben was panting as if he'd just run a marathon. He was disheveled and the taste in his mouth was sickening. If Kevin so much as twitched a finger in his direction, so help him, Ben promised himself he would beat the older teen senseless regardless of how badly he hurt himself in the process. Clutching his burning shoulder, he stared at Levin, angrier and more hurt and confused than he could ever remembering being in his life. The fire was gone from Kevin's eyes, replaced by horror and disbelief as he realized what he had done. Years of friendship and brotherhood - gone in an instant. He dared not speak as he gazed up at Ben, his mouth hanging open and his jaw already discoloring.

"What is wrong with you?" demanded Ben, his voice rising up in a shout. He didn't wait for an answer. "I can't believe you just would have – tried to -" Chest heaving, he felt a wave of nausea hit him at the thought of what Kevin had planned to do. What he _intended_ to do, what he had started doing and given the chance, would have done. He felt filthy inside and out. "If you ever, _ever_ lay a hand on me again, if you ever _look_ at me that way again. I will . . ." He broke off, unable to some up with anything horrible enough to do. He swallowed, knowing what he had to do and the pain it would cause. "Gwen is going to hear exactly what you just tried to do to me. If you try and deny it, I'll have her probe my memory." He shook his head, disgusted by the remorse and shame in Kevin's eyes, knowing that if he hadn't stopped him with force that nothing would have. "I thought you were my friend."

He had to get away. Now. He was being smothered. The room was stifling. The sight of Kevin sickened him. He would collapse if he stayed a second longer. The need to escape was overwhelming and he bolted, running blindly through the tree house. He hurried down the uneven steps to an open-air deck where the KND relaxed when the weather was good. It was raining hard and his socks were soaked instantly, but Ben didn't slow down, desperately turning the dial on the Omnitrix despite Dr. Cardon's order not to transform.

"Ben! Ben, wait!"

"_Jetray!"_

Heedless of Levin's desperate calls, he threw himself into the night and into the storm, instinct making him turn toward the northwest and the most ready source of comfort and understanding that he knew.


	13. Where He Needed to Be

**Chapter 13: Where He Needed to Be**

He was sitting at the dinner table with Dexter, proctoring an aerodynamics test for his son and reviewing research proposals when the call came. The comm unit in the hall chimed, and he recognized the tone as coming from Security. Unwilling to disturb Dexter when he was thoroughly intent on lift and drag, Utonium took the call in the kitchen, glancing at the clock as he passed. It was past nine in the evening. The girls were in Omaha overnight on a mission and he and Dexter had planned on enjoying a quiet evening at home since it had been several days since they had been able to spend time together.

"_Sir, it's Morton. Sorry to bother you, but long-range sensors indicate we've got an incoming object," _said the foot-high hologram of the security chief. _"Organic, moving at three-quarters the speed of sound, and headed this way. ETA is under nine minutes."_

Patrick Utonium knew of only one person that could fit that bill. "Is it Ben? Jetray, I mean."

"_That's what I'm thinking, sir, but he's not scheduled to be back."_

Utonium knew that despite his burning desire to spend time with Dexter, Benjamin Tennyson took his role as commander in Earth's Combined Forces very seriously and duty came first (a large part of the reason Dexter loved and admired him so). Unless he managed to schedule free time, he would not return to headquarters save if an emergency demanded it. "Has he sent any communications?"

"_None I'm aware of."_

Utonium glanced back toward the dining room and at Dexter's bent head as he wrapped up the last question on the test. Briefly he wondered if there was more to Chip's statement than face value, but if there was he knew he could trust in Morton's silence and discretion. If his son had heard from Ben, though, he would have been far more excited and talkative than he was at present, especially if he knew Ben was coming to DexLabs. Dexter was good at masking his emotions - too good, sometimes - but what he felt for Ben was too large for him to easily contain. No, Dexter had not been contacted by his boyfriend.

"He hasn't called here," Utonium confirmed. "Have you gotten any squawks of an attack? Was he deployed somewhere?"

"_Nothing, Professor."_

"Keep me posted."

He returned to Dexter, watching his profile as his son worked on a page-long calculation. The redhead glanced up at him with a smile and said,

"Almost done." Something about Utonium's stance gave him pause, and he looked up from the test again. "Dad? Is something wrong?"

Utonium blinked, realizing he'd been staring, and sat down in the closest chair. "I don't know," he said, deliberately keeping his voice even. "Chip just called. We think Ben's on his way here."

Dexter's surprise at this announcement was genuine. A few more hasty numbers and symbols were scratched onto the page, and then he set the pencil down and pushed the calculations away. "I'm done." They were silent for a few moments, both geniuses thinking hard and fast, and finally Dexter asked, "You think?"

"We have an incoming organic mass moving toward us close to mach one."

"Jetray?"

"That would be the logical conclusion."

"That . . . is odd. Not that I'm complaining, but something must have happened. Have there been any battles?"

"No, and Ben's still on light duty."

"I . . . I haven't gotten word from him outside of emails here and there. He and Kevin Levin were assisting the Sector T KND with training and equipment repairs. He hasn't given any indication that anything was wrong," he added softly, and the Professor heard the unspoken _. . . at least to me_ in Dexter's voice.

"Well, let's not jump to any conclusions."

"You're right. We'll wait until he gets here to do that," agreed the teen, trying to hide his concern. A frown creased his face as if he remembered something, but he held his silence.

A chime rang out a moment before a comm cube appeared over the table between them, a good indicator of the urgency of the situation. Another good indicator was the worried frown and clipped tones of the former Navy officer as Sgt. Morton said,

"_Professor, still no ID the object. It's not heading to the main doors; it's heading for your back yard. I've got a team on the roof."_

Dexter glanced out the windows. It was raining pretty heavily. He didn't envy his security staff.

"Tell them to watch but hold back, Chip," ordered Utonium. "I'll give a signal if all's clear and call you." To the boy he called his son he said, "Wait right here unless I call."

Dexter nodded, his expression serious. He knew better than to argue with that tone of voice. Utonium stepped over to the back doors and turned on all the lights in the garden. Four walls of DexLabs headquarters formed a private courtyard, enclosing an acre of landscaped yard that was part of the family's living space. Utonium stepped outside to the sheltered patio and then moved to where he could scan overhead, blinking at the raindrops. It seemed a matter of seconds before he was drenched. A dark object moved across the sky, circling a few times. He felt a wave of relief as he recognized the kite-shaped form and bright coloration of an Aerophibian. Jetray wound his way closer and then dove for the open ground behind the pergola. He did not land with his usual grace, but fell heavily to his hands and knees as if he was exhausted. There was a dazzling flash of green energy, and suddenly it was Ben Tennyson, soaked to the skin and gasping for air, that crouched in the muddy garden.

Knowing he was being watched and that there probably half a dozen rifles teamed on Ben this moment, Utonium raised his fist high over his head, telling the security guards to wait before any action was taken. He hurried to Ben's side, ignoring the flowers he trampled as he crouched beside the young man. With both hands the Professor steadied him, gazing at him anxiously by the wane lights along the nearest walkway.

"Ben, are you all right?"

It was evident that he was not. Pale, clammy, shivering, Ben took a moment to process the simple question and then shook his head. He clutched his shoulder, his face screwed up with pain.

"Is there any danger to you or us?" pressed Utonium, anxious to relieve the security team on the roof.

"N-no," gasped Ben, fighting tears. "No. I just – Kevin . . . why did he . . ." With a shout of frustration he smacked his fist to the ground, sending mud in all directions. "Dammit! Why did he do that? Why?"

He broke off, unable to continue, hugging his arms tight around his middle and not looking up. Utonium crouched beside him, frightened by his own conclusions. Sickening dread filled him and he hoped he was wrong as his mind drew a number of possibilities of what might have happened. Well, he would do all he could, but first he had to get the boy inside.

"Come on inside. Let me help you." Putting an arm around Ben, he stood and drew the young man up with him. It was only then that he realized that but for his socks, Ben's feet were bare. He carefully walked him toward the house, calling for Dexter.

Wide-eyed and alarmed, Dexter dashed to the edge of the patio, twitching as a few drops of rain hit him. Tension seemed to radiate off him and he waited anxiously, knowing he was forbidden to go further but desperate to learn what was wrong and to help.

"Call Chip," said the Professor as he all but carried Ben into their suite. Behind him, Dexter closed the glass doors against the wind and rain. "Let him know it's Ben and we're safe. Security can resume normal patrols."

"Yes, Dad," was the breathless reply.

He gently lowered Ben onto a bench seat close by the door. The brunet was trembling at a frightening rate, and he was absolutely colorless. Utonium pushed him back against the cushioned seat, afraid he might topple over if left unattended. It was clear he was going into shock, and the Professor was frankly amazed he'd made it all the way from the Sector T tree house.

"Dexter! Towels and a few blankets, please."

Footsteps pounding on the stairs told him Dexter was heading for the linen closet. Ben leaned heavily against Utonium, his shivering getting worse. Ignoring the water and mud dripping off them, the Professor wrapped both arms around the young man, holding him close and trying to reassure him, maybe even warm him just a little.

The gesture had completely unexpected results. Ben gasped, his green eyes wide and full of fear and pain a moment before he clutched Utonium's white coat with both hands and rested his head on the scientist's shoulder. Quickly the Professor grasped the brunet to him, holding him tight an instant before the tears started. He looked up as Dexter came rushing down the stairs, his arms full of towels and blankets. The Boy Genius slowed to a halt, staring helplessly between his father and his boyfriend. Desperately he mouthed, _What happened?_ but the Professor had no answers yet. He shook his head and just held on as Ben gave vent to his distress.

Not knowing what else to do, Dexter unfolded one of the blankets and draped it over Ben's shoulders with hands that trembled. The older teen stirred, lifting his head slightly, but he didn't look at the redhead. His breaths were coming in shuddering gulps and fatigue was sapping his ability to maintain such a high pitch of emotion. For a very long while nothing was said. Dexter's fear was mounting, and it was clear to the Professor that without information or something to do, his ward was on the verge of panic.

"Dexter," Utonium said quietly, trying to calm him. "Can you please go make some hot chocolate? Ben will be better for having something warm in him."

Not to mention sugar to help him get over his shock. With a hasty nod Dexter darted into the kitchen. A few moments later there came a crash and a muttered curse as he spilled several pots to the floor. The laboratory was Dexter's element, and taken out of it, he was a disaster with feet. Utonium knew they'd be lucky if Dexter didn't scorch the drinks and himself, but he needed something to occupy him right now.

He looked to the young man in his arms, able to sense his misery and exhaustion. Gently, keeping the blanket wrapped around him, Utonium sat Ben up and cupped his face in both hands. The medical professional in him needed to see Ben's eyes. There were no signs of injury or concussion, he was glad to note. Too often Ben had arrived here sick or hurt and he had a tendency to ignore his body's needs. His shoulder definitely needed some attention, but that could wait.

"Ben," he said softly so that Dexter couldn't overhear. "Listen to me. I need you to be perfectly honest with me right now. Do you need to see a doctor? If you don't want to see me or Cardon or Seventy-Seven, I can get someone else in from Downtown General."

Those green eyes brimmed with fresh tears as he realized Utonium had guessed part or all of the truth, but Ben shook his head and whispered, "No."

"All right. Do you want to speak to the police?"

He took a long, unsteady breath, lowering his gaze as he shook his head again. A weighty pause followed, and then the Professor said,

"If you change your mind at any point, day or night, you let me know. It doesn't matter where I am or what I'm doing, you call me. Deal?"

Biting his lip, Ben nodded. He jumped slightly as in the kitchen, Dexter dropped and broke a mug. Utonium ignored the distraction. Broken crockery was perfectly normal when the boy tried to do anything more complex than pour juice.

"Are you physically hurt in any way?"

"Not bad." He sniffed and swallowed hard, grimacing at the effort. "Just . . . roughed up a little bit. More scared," he faintly breathed, so that Utonium barely heard him. "I think I screwed up my shoulder again."

He nodded and brushed the wet hair from Ben's eyes, gazing at him with sympathy. His heart ached for this excellent young man – and for the pain he knew his son would feel and be subject to as a result. They would have to tread very carefully. "You're safe. You're home. Anything you need – help or to talk or just to be left alone – we'll do. I promise, Ben."

Ben Tennyson bowed his head, reassured. _This_ was why he had come here – even in his panic and terror he had instinctively known that this was where he needed to be. There was another crash as Dexter tired to function in the kitchen. Ben had to smirk a tiny bit at the image of the young genius stumbling around and trying to equate the range with a Bunsen burner. There was a reason the Professor did all the cooking.

Suddenly Ben stiffened, frightened anew. The sudden tension made him wince and he looked up at the Professor with alarm on his face. "Dex," he gasped, seeming to realize that Dexter would have to be told _something_ and that conduct such as Kevin's was beyond his experience or comprehension.

"I'll speak to him," promised Utonium. "I'll tell him enough to tide him over. He's understandably frightened for you right now. You'll have to decide how much you want to say and how much you want him to know. Don't worry about that now, Ben. You need to warm up first."

He agreed, knowing this man was right. With a long sigh of exhaustion he rested his aching head against the Professor's shoulder again, relieved to be held in those strong and capable arms. More than ever, he understood why Dexter equated his father to safety, and safety to home.


	14. Tears and Cocoa

**Chapter 14: Tears and Cocoa  
><strong>

He was standing in the kitchen with saucepans everywhere. The milk and sugar and cocoa were out and ready, but in his agitated state Dexter had also pulled out a carton of eggs and apples and a head of lettuce among other things as he desperately tried to remember how to make hot chocolate and coming up with a complete blank. Dexter was lapsing into a state close to panic when, mercifully, his father arrived to save him. He sighed as the tall, dark-haired man entered, looking to him for help, reassurance, and answers, preferably all at once.

"D-Dad," he said in a voice that trembled. "What happened? Is Ben hurt? What-?"

Ignoring the chaos that had been made, Utonium walked straight to his son and put his hands on Dexter's narrow shoulders. The fact that he didn't answer immediately was enough to make the Boy Genius panic for real, and when he would have broken free of the hold the Professor gripped him tightly, grounding him.

"Listen to me and promise you'll remain calm."

Doing his best not to hyperventilate, Dexter nodded, aching and afraid to know what had happened and what he could do.

Gray eyes searched his face a moment longer, and satisfied by what he saw, Patrick Utonium carefully said, "Ben's re-injured his shoulder. That's the only injury he has."

Dexter frowned, knowing things weren't adding up, but his acquired father went on talking slowly and forcing calm upon both of them.

"He's very upset and distressed and he needs to know he's secure."

He covered the Professor's big hand with his own, begging with his eyes. "Dad - _what happened?_ Did I . . . ?" He shook his head in helpless confusion, terrified he might have somehow, unknowingly contributed to the situation.

"It's nothing you've done, Dexter. Nothing we've done. He came to us because he knows we'll help." The scientist drew a deep breath, trying to find the words. "Ben . . . he - his trust has been betrayed. Completely betrayed. By someone he loves dearly. A friend."

There was such sorrow in the Professor's expression that Dexter felt his heart break as much for his father as for Ben. He moved forward and wrapped his arms tight around the Professor's waist, looking up to ask, "Who did this? Was he -"

"No. I told you, his only injury is his shoulder." He gazed at Dexter squarely. "As for who, I'm not going to tell you. Listen, to me, Dexter! Dexter!" he said sternly when righteous fury replaced Dexter's concern. "It's not for me to say and it's not for you to act."

"But -"

"No," said Utonium in a voice that would permit no argument. "I know you want to do something, but you going on a rampage will not help the situation or Ben. Right now, he's the only thing that matters. What he wants and what he needs takes precedence over any fit of temper you feel like indulging in."

The Professor had never had issue with his temper before, and since he very rarely raised his voice in anger, Dexter was caught off balance. "I-"

Utonium raised a finger for silence, looking stern, and Dexter shut up immediately. "If Ben wants you to know, he'll tell you. Don't ask, don't press, and don't be surprised if he's a bit stand-offish. In the meantime, he's had a shock and he's going to need a lot of time and attention and understanding. He needs to know he's safe and loved no matter what, and he needs you to be a friend even more than a boyfriend."

Leaving Dexter standing in the middle of the kitchen to mull over this, Utonium made cocoa for the two boys with an ease that left the Boy Genius envious. In just a few minutes he was handed two mugs of the rich, hot drink and telling his son he'd go get clothes and a hot shower ready for Ben, Utonium shooed him off toward the patio door. Nervousness took Dexter as he approached Ben, and his knees quaked and he almost spilled the cocoa. What to say? How to act? What did Ben need right now?

Ben was sitting on the bench, a blanket wrapped tightly around him. Somehow he seemed smaller and younger than he really was, and his face was terribly pale and strained. He was still in his wet clothes, though Dexter wasn't sure if his trembling was caused by chills or emotion. Both, probably, so the steaming cocoa would be welcome. He tried and failed to keep the fear out of his voice as one small word betrayed everything he was feeling.

"Ben?"

There was such hurt and pain in those green eyes that it took all of Dexter's willpower not to give in to the fury that threatened to overwhelm him. He knew perfectly well that with a bit of logical reasoning he would be able to figure out who had attacked Ben, but he wasn't feeling particularly logical at this moment. Distress won over wrath, at least for now, because he saw Ben had been - no. No. Ben _was_ crying, a quiet, controlled expression of loss. So great was Ben's grief that Dexter could feel all the pain and shame and confusion that filled him to overflowing, and he suddenly understood what the Professor meant that Ben needed a friend even more than a boyfriend.

He was staring into those puffy, red-rimmed eyes when Ben hoarsely whispered, "One of those for me?"

Dexter looked down, remembering the cocoa. "Oh. Ye-yeah. Um . . . yes. Here."

He handed over the mug (the green one - _Things taste better out of green, Dex, didn't you know that?_), being careful not to slosh any onto Ben, who was wet enough. For the first time in his life Dexter wished he wasn't wearing gloves, so badly did he want to touch Ben even if it was something as insignificant and brief as handing him a cup. He wanted to hold and warm and assure him and banish all the pain -

"Dex?" wondered Ben after a mouthful or two.

The redhead found himself unable to move. His chest felt tight and his stomach was in knots and he desperately wanted to do the right thing, only he didn't know what that might be. This was even harder than going to find Ben after the last battle in Citiesville, and tracking Ben down that rainy day had been the hardest thing Dexter had ever done.

"I . . . I don't know what to do, Ben, or what to say. I don't . . . know," he finished weakly.

Wearily Ben sighed, jerking his head toward the open bit of bench beside him. "Just sit down, please."

Dexter obeyed, sitting stiffly and clutching the mug in his hands and staring at it as if it somehow held answers like a scrying bowl. They were silent for a few minutes as Ben drank his cocoa and Dexter grew increasingly tense. He should be the one offering comfort, not Ben. Ben was the one traumatized and assaulted, and here he, Dexter, was the one well on his way to an emotional meltdown.

"I won't bite," Ben abruptly said. "Not right now, anyway."

He let out a little gasp at that attempt at levity, and it occurred to him that Ben was telling him what to do. What to say. What he needed.

He needed Dexter.

Cocoa spilled on the tiled floor as he set his mug down, and then Dexter slid closer, unable to look away from Ben's profile. He swallowed, and then very carefully he touched the blanket. Ben sniffed, staring at nothing, his lips pressed tight as he battled for some control. Dexter ventured closer, sliding his arm behind Ben's waist, then inching his other arm across until he was hugging Ben from the side. He leaned close and gingerly rested his head on Ben's good shoulder. Dexter closed his eyes, unable to bear the hurt in Ben's expression any longer. Then he just held on, trying to convey how much he loved the older teen no matter what. Ben's weight shifted slightly in his direction, and his free hand let go of the blanket to encircle Dexter's wrist. They sat in silence for a very long time.

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

If Dexter looked so awful just looking at him, Ben could only imagine how terrible he must look. He was freezing cold and his wrist and shoulder ached and his head was throbbing with the strain of tears and having been slammed into a wall. He sat very still, trying hard not to think about anything other than the fact that Dexter was holding him and pressing close and warm. Flashes of memory assailed him, Kevin's voice and his rough touch and his hot breath in Ben's ear as he promised atrocities . . .

A shudder ran through him at the memory. It was . . . unspeakable. Unbelievable. Grotesque. His friend, his brother, had tried to force himself on Ben. He looked down at his own hand clasping Dexter's skinny wrist, then at the unruly head of red hair with a cowlick that annoyed Dexter so completely. Dexter was frightened, had been afraid to touch him or speak wrong, and . . . Kevin had done this. To him, to Dexter.

How could he? What sick fantasies had Ben starred in for the Osmosian's pleasure these past few weeks? Was it just now, or had this lust Kevin harbored toward him been building for a long time? He'd known Kevin was frustrated and missing Gwen, but . . . rape?

Not much later he stood in the shower under a cascade of hot, hot water, scrubbing himself raw in an attempt to wash away the taint of Kevin Levin. If only he could do the same to his memories . . .

Bruises were forming on his wrists, marks the size and shape of Kevin's hand. His knuckles ached from punching the Osmosian. He wished he'd hit him harder.

Dressed in a pair of the Professor's pyjamas and wrapped in his robe, it was like being embraced. Exhaustion was stealing in upon Ben. He wondered at himself as he willingly took off the oversized top to let Utonium examine his shoulder. He had hesitated to change clothes in front of Kevin but he had no issue with stripping off his shirt for the Professor and letting the man poke and prod him as he sat on the bed in the guest bedroom. It was all a matter of intent, really. The Professor had Ben's best interests in mind. Kevin only had his own sick satisfaction. The hands upon him now evoked no fear, only a sense of deep concern as Dexter's dad wrapped his aching shoulder snugly.

"Try not to move too much. You're going to feel this in the morning and I want to get some x-rays tomorrow, just to see if you've torn anything. I'm going to get you some pain killers," said Utonium, covering him warmly in the soft bed. "They work better with some food in you, so I'll send Dexter up with a snack." The Professor paused, gazing at Ben with open worry. "Is there anything I can do? Anything you want or need, Ben?"

He shook his head, and, feeling that wasn't enough, he said, "I . . . I just don't want to think."

A sad smile answered. "You need to sleep."

It was true. Ben nodded in silent agreement, and with a final look of fond and fatherly concern, Utonium left. A few minutes later Dexter entered the room with a tray laden with a glass of milk and cheese toast and killer pain meds that Ben gratefully downed.

Dexter collected the empty plate, seemingly shy all of a sudden. "Do you mind if I sit with you?" he asked nervously, then hastily added, "Just until you fall asleep."

Glad to have someone watch over him, wishing Dexter was not so anxious around him, Ben softly said, "Please."

The young scientist hauled a wingback chair right up against the bed and then he curled up on the cushion. Ben was reminded of some sort of toy dog or a cat, and he felt a rush of affection that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with gratitude. He slid his hand from beneath the covers, reaching for Dexter. The younger teen grasped his hand and pressed his lips to it as if Ben Tennyson was the most precious thing in the world.

They were silent, sitting together. Despite his request to watch over Ben's sleep, it was Dexter who fell asleep first. Ben watched him sleep, trying to lose himself in the simple act of devotion as he had in the past. Dexter was a remarkably sound sleeper, especially when he first dropped off, and Ben focused on his breathing, slowing his breaths to match until finally, finally, after what felt like an eternity, he found rest as well.


	15. Wash Away This Sin

**Chapter 15: Wash Away This Sin  
><strong>

a/n My thanks to Chinese Fox for her help with this chapter!

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

_I thought you were my friend._

Ben's words – possibly, _probably_ the last words he'd ever say to Kevin, outside of telling him to go burn in hell – echoed in his mind over and over again. The look in those green eyes seared itself into Kevin's mind: confusion, pain, betrayal, disbelief too great to be comprehended. He knew exactly what Ben had felt because . . . he was feeling all those same things.

He sat on the deck in the pouring rain, too numb to feel the cold, too shocked to go inside, staring into the darkness that had swallowed Ben. How long had it been since he had followed him out here? Minutes, hours ago? Ages ago? A lifetime ago? It seemed so long but at the same time, it was still happening.

_I thought you were my friend._

Pain still radiated from his groin. If he moved wrong he could still see stars. His jaw and back ached, but not as bad. He's have a nice set of bruises in the morning if it ever came. He wished he hurt more. A lot more. Wished Ben had evened things up a bit more. The pain wasn't nearly equal to what he knew he'd caused Ben.

What the hell had gotten into him? What stupid madness had decided molesting his best friend was the right thing to do? He remembered the thrill and excitement of Ben's struggles against him, the twisted pleasure of being able to dominate something he wanted. Ben hadn't offered, but Kevin would have taken. Something in his mind had justified his conduct. It had been a rush when he'd been doing it, but now the memory of arousal just made him sick.

_I thought you were my friend._

He had actually been enjoying Ben's fear. Up to the point where Ben had used his last name on him, he fully intended to do something unspeakable. To Ben. He clenched his hand into a fist, the hand he had shoved down the front of Ben's jeans. He squeezed his eyes shut at the memory of the younger man's hiss of indignation at the affront, slamming his fist hard into the wood beneath him. Again. Again. The pain wasn't enough. It had seemed so sexy to his crazed mind but he knew now that Ben had been terrified.

With good reason.

Dropping down flat, Kevin Levin let his head bang on the wooden deck, not caring. Rain pummeled him, but it would take oceans to wash away this sin. It was too big. He had been building for weeks and weeks to this moment and now this was the upshot: lying on his back in the freezing rain as he tried to figure out what the heck was wrong with Kevin E. Levin. The answer to that was everything. He had started this. He had built the tension. He must have wanted this.

Why? Why? Why had he done that? Was he so grossly insecure that he couldn't share Ben with anyone? A nameless, sexless, unknown person had snatched Ben out of Kevin's circle and since he couldn't make _them_ suffer for the offense, he'd taken it out on Ben. Ben, who had never been anything less than a friend. Who had ignored Kevin's lecherous looks and prying in the name of friendship.

_I thought you were my friend._

God, had he _ever_ been Ben's friend? It didn't seem like it. Not now. So much taking, so little giving back. Ben had made it too easy . . ._  
><em>

Kevin squeezed his eyes closed, hating himself more and more as he delved deeper into his own conduct, trying to pinpoint the defect in his character that had sparked this mess. Why was he blaming Ben for anything? Was it because Gwen tended to shove blame off onto her cousin, or because Kevin didn't have as much backbone as Tennyson and it was just plain easier to let the hero carry that burden? Ben would do it, too, which was why it was too easy to blame him. Ben had just been himself. Had always been himself - nice, honest, generous, and annoying as he held Kevin to a higher standard of friendship than he initially wanted to be bothered with. He could not deny he liked the person Ben had seen and expected him to be. If nothing else, a connection to Ben had brought Gwen into his life and she was the most wonderful, beautiful woman he had ever known. Kevin was the one who had failed everyone and in every way. Ben, Gwen, himself . . . and whoever it was that had stolen Ben's heart.

Whoever that was, he had hated them once. Hated them for taking what he felt was his. Up until now he had been shallow enough to think that friendship, like love, had limits. As if Ben's capacity to be a friend started and ended with Kevin. He kept thinking this person had stolen Ben - what if Ben had been the one to act, to pursue his . . . girlfriend, boyfriend, lover, plant, whatever? Now . . . he only deserved their contempt. What would they say, what would they feel when they found out? What if they rejected Ben and his friend - god, yes, his friend, his brother, he loved him, why had he done this to him - was left alone and in despair? Like Kevin had been left?

Only he deserved it.

Ben did not.

_I thought you were my friend._

He clutched his head, rolling to his side and curling up. His body ached, his head ached, he was freezing cold and soaked through, but it would make no difference even if he was warm and dry. It was as if a long, loud, wail of grief was trapped inside his mind and he wished it would escape and tear him apart. He knew Ben had to feel worse. If only there was enough rain to drown him. Why had he insisted on knowing? Why couldn't he drop it? Ben had tried to make him drop it. Who Ben was seeing wasn't his business. Why had he tried to make it his?

Curiosity wasn't a strong enough word. Possessiveness was a bit more accurate. Jealousy - Ben's own assessment - hit the nail on the head. He was so used to being the worldly one, the one with the answers, the one Ben turned to in need. Not being needed had struck him harder than he realized. Only now he saw that Ben had been trying to steer him away from where he would do the most harm, and being bullheaded and an idiot. In his determination to defy that guidance, Kevin had trampled all over him.

Again.

He hadn't known Tennyson was capable of such a look. Fury like nothing he'd ever seen in the younger man had been focused solely on Kevin and driven home the fact that Ben was a quarter Anodite. Sensitive as he was to energy, he had seen something flare up. He knew he was lucky that Ben had not unleashed, lucky that so much history had stood as a buffer between them. Anyone who wrote Benjamin Tennyson off as mild or ineffective was a fool of a completely different order than Kevin Levin.

He had chased Ben out here in desperation. He wanted,_ needed_ to apologize. He had to make Ben understand even though he could understand it himself. Because if Ben understood, maybe he could explain it to Kevin . . .

No. No. Who was he kidding? Everything he wanted to do right now, he wanted for himself and it was Ben who had been wronged. _Make_ Ben understand? He was doing it again, pushing the blame off onto him.

Was their alien heritage to blame? Osmosians were drawn to power and easily crazed by it. Kevin was living proof of that, and so was Tennyson. The brunet might not have the same spark that allowed Gwen to manipulate mana, but there was no denying that Ben had a certain aura. Kevin could feel it. Had almost tasted it tonight . . .

_I thought you were my friend._

He pressed his hands to his face, hiding from the world but unable to hide from himself.

"I thought I was your friend, too, Benji," Kevin whispered to the night, not sure if it was tears or rain that made his eyes sting. "I dunno what the hell I am now."


	16. A Thousand Words

**Chapter 16: A Thousand Words**

Thanks to whatever the Professor had given him, Ben slept better and deeper than he ever expected, and despite the tension and anxiety of the night before, he woke rested. Stiff and terribly sore, but rested.

Opening his eyes, he was rather surprised to find himself almost planted face-first in a set of . . . boot treads? With a confused frown he stared them a while, wondering if he'd managed to imprint their pattern on his forehead and where they'd come from. Shuffling back a bit, he realized Dexter had simultaneously scrunched and sprawled in the chair in a terribly uncomfortable-looking position with one leg extended almost to Ben's pillow. Sometime in the night the Professor must have stopped in and provided Dexter with a pillow and blanket, not that they did the kid any good right now as he tried to twist himself into a pretzel. The bathroom light had been left on (Dexter being deathly afraid of the dark) and by the dim light he lay there and gazed fondly at the redhead. He was glad Dexter hadn't left last night. Part of the reason he had slept so well was explained by the scientist's presence. He'd found he slept better when Dexter was close by, even if not in the bed with him.

He nodded off again while staring at his boyfriend, the drugs in his system still stronger than his desire to face the day. He roused just enough to be aware when a soft, gentle kiss was pressed to his cheek and a heavily accented voice whispered, "I love you. So much, Ben." He would have liked to respond, especially when a second, longer kiss followed this promise and maybe get a kiss of his own in, but the covers were warm, the pillows were soft, Dexter loved him, and Ben could not think of a single reason not to go back to sleep.

How much longer he slept, he had no idea, but when he woke up again the room was dark. He rather wished Dexter had left the bathroom light on. Not that he needed it, but because Dexter did. At least his limbs didn't feel as if they were made of lead anymore.

Completely familiar with the room, he reached up and turned on the light beside the bed. As he settled down again he noticed a framed photograph had been placed on the night stand. He picked it up, recognizing the scene. It was from a few months ago, before Vilgax had targeted Dexter, back when Ben had been teaching Null-Void weapon safety to Providence agents. The night before his first class, he and Dexter had sat out in the garden on a bench swing, going over a few details. He had enjoyed being Dexter's pupil, if only for a few hours, though the younger boy had not given him detention as requested. The night had been cool, and Ben had given Dexter his jacket to wear. He was swimming in it, and he looked adorable and so very, very Irish.

In the picture Ben was looking down at the paper in his hand, a smile on his face as he was asking some lame question or other, but Dexter, leaning close, was looking at Ben as if nothing else in the world existed for him except Benjamin Kirby Tennyson. It was an unguarded moment, neither had been aware of any Powerpuffs armed with a camera in the garden with them, and Dexter's whole heart was written on his face. Ben stared at the scene, remembering the moment, wishing he had looked up and caught that gleam in Dexter's eyes, grateful that Bubbles or Buttercup had captured their brother's expression even if they hadn't guessed the depth or meaning of Dexter's stare.

He hadn't seen it before, and he wondered if Dexter had been saving it as a gift. Perhaps Utonium or the girls had given it to Dexter. He wasn't sure. All he knew was that he was remarkably glad to see it and appreciated the distraction.

He stared at Dexter, at the absolute love his expression showed, and tried to lose himself in the happy memory. He stared because to look away meant he would have to move eventually and that meant starting the day, which meant facing what Kevin had done. Right now, he had neither the strength nor the nerve to deal with the fallout of Kevin Levin's selfishness and lust. Did Dexter know yet? Had he guessed? What was he feeling right now? Disgust? Anger? Pity? He needed to call Gwen and tell her and he had no idea of how he was going to put this into words. How did you tell a cousin as close as a sister that her boyfriend had damn near raped him? He was going to break her heart much the way Kevin had broken his . . .

The depth of his emotion was nothing new. He was a soldier, a commander, and he had been a fighter even before he had gotten the Omnitrix. Loss was a familiar sensation and he had felt the keen bite of grief time and again. He had been betrayed before and he knew the bitterness of rejection. This time, though, the intensity was different. Kevin wasn't dead, but he would have been able to handle his feelings better if he had been. This was the difference between pain and hurt. This wouldn't go away. Ever.

God. Why? Why? What the hell had Kevin been thinking? He dropped back into the pillows, tears stinging his eyes. There was no escaping it. Tension flooded back into him and brought with it aches and tender bruises and horrific memories that pushed aside all thoughts of Dexter and anything happy. He set the picture back on the table as if to preserve it from his taint. Somehow he felt filthy from head to toe, and wanted a shower like he'd never wanted one before in his life.

Once he finally stirred himself, the day was a disjointed sort of blur. Ben had an unreal, detached feeling as if he was watching his life through the eyes of a stranger. It never seemed as if he woke up fully and his heart felt like a weight in his chest. Now and then things suddenly came into focus and he realized it was him going through these motions, like the sting of hot water after he'd been in the shower for almost an hour and had scrubbed his skin raw or getting dressed after Dr. Cardon finished an MRI on his shoulder and noticing his clothes were brand new and completely different from what he'd worn here.

Dexter was a constant: quiet, supportive, always close and gently guiding him through the afternoon. Ben was thoroughly grateful to his friend though he said very little, which even he knew was odd for him. In reality he wanted nothing more than to settle in on the soft couch in Dexter's bedroom and snuggle up with his head on Dexter's lap and not emerge for a month or so. His wish came partially true when they returned from Medical. Utonium shooed Ben off to go lay down until dinner, and it turned out the couch in the living room of the suite was every bit as comfortable as the one in Dexter's bedroom, even more so when Dexter curled up with him and let Ben use him as a pillow.

He was glad Dexter hadn't asked him for any details. It was a rare event in Benjamin Tennyson's life that he didn't want to talk, but this was one such occasion. Had Utonium told him? Probably not. Once he calmed down, Dexter could easily figure out the who and what and when with more speed and accuracy than Kevin could ever manage. Perhaps Dexter even had a theory why this had happened . . .

It was inevitable that he would have to talk, because it occurred to him that Dexter was more than capable of reducing Kevin to a cinder if he really wanted. The kid made laser weapons for a living, after all. The Megabot was a walking battleship and god knew what sort of super weapon Dex had stashed away in that laboratory of his. Ben had seen too many sci-fi B-movies than was healthy, because he could not shake the image of Kevin Levin getting zapped into a charcoal statue. Satisfying though it was to his imagination, he couldn't let Dexter do anything extreme. He did not want to have regret for such an act between them. He didn't want anything between them.

Groping for Dexter's hand, he smiled faintly at the familiar feel of latex as Dexter, who was reading a thoroughly boring book on aviation, twined his fingers through Ben's. Shifting a bit, he looked up at the younger boy. Dexter gave him a nervous little smile, and it struck Ben that his friend, his boyfriend, his lover, was terribly, terribly frightened right now.

"Hey, Dex?" he said, whispering.

Dexter looked away from the book, tilting his head so he and Ben were almost facing each other as he waited for Ben to say more. It was Ben's turn to manage a little smile, a more difficult task than he imagined.

"Love you too. So much."

Dexter smiled again, and suddenly it was as if Ben was looking at the picture in his bedroom, so open was the redhead's look of love. Usually so reserved and stoic, Dexter held nothing back. Before today Ben had never imagined such an expression turned toward him - a love that was fierce and absolute, unshaken despite his incomplete understanding - and Ben could not, did not want to look away. Ever. The silent declaration of devotion was wonderful and intimidating and powerful enough to keep the demons at bay, if only for a time.


	17. Over With

**Chapter 17: Over With  
><strong>

"Dexter?"

He looked up from the aerodynamics book at the sound of his father's voice. The Professor had checked in on them regularly over the last few hours and it was clear he did not want to disturb Ben's sleep.

_He hadn't been studying, at least not aerodynamics. The book was for show. It had been over an hour since he'd turned a page. No, he'd been studying Ben: watching him sleep, listening to him breath, praying he didn't drool on his lab coat, smoothing his brown hair. The long sleeves of Ben's shirt mostly hid the marks on his wrists, and Dexter had very carefully compared his fingers and hand to the dark bruises, roughly gauging the size of the person that had assaulted him. Someone larger than Dexter (which meant almost everyone) and larger than Ben._

_He found it interesting that Ben's sneakers were missing, but he had been wearing socks. Dexter had noticed (as he noticed everything Ben did) that when the brunet was getting ready for bed, he took his sneakers off before he took off anything else, even his jacket. So he must have been getting ready for bed, which meant he'd been in his quarters in the tree house._

_Quarters he shared with Kevin Levin._

_That Ben was distraught rather than furious at being assaulted spoke volumes. Had it been a stranger or alien or anyone he was not close to, Ben would have been blowing off steam a mile a minute. Ben had many friends and acquaintances, but he was close to just a handful of people: Nigel Uno, his cousin, the Utoniums, Kevin Levin . . ._

_The facts were undeniable, but until Ben spoke, Dexter would keep his silence. Already it wasn't easy, just as it wasn't easy to keep his fury in check. The Sector T tree house, Kevin's mounting frustrations, Ben's distress all told a bitter tale of betrayal. Sitting with him, guarding his sleep, Dexter's heart had broken anew for Ben as he put the pieces of the puzzle together. The thought of anyone laying violent, wanton hands upon his boyfriend was enough to rouse his rather considerable wrath, and the only reason Kevin Levin wasn't in the cross-hairs of the Megabot right now was because Dexter didn't want to risk upsetting Ben more by leaving him._

"The girls are on their way home now. They'll be back by seven, so we'll eat then," said Patrick Utonium in hushed tones. Leaning close, he whispered in Dexter's ear, "I need to talk to you. Will he wake up if you move?"

Dexter felt himself blush the least bit. His father assuming he'd know how deeply Ben slept was not quite embarrassing, but more a vote of confidence. Still, it was dangerously close to discussing intimacy, something Dexter avoided much the same way he avoided germs (Ben's germs being the exception to that rule). "No. Grab a pillow."

Between them they gingerly eased Ben's head off of Dexter's lap and onto a pillow, Dexter slithering over the back of the couch to escape. Together they stared, waiting to see if Ben stirred, but he slept on and finally they backed away toward the kitchen. Out of habit Dexter adjusted his lab coat and gloves, finishing with his glasses and a swipe of his hand through his hair, nervous about anything his father had to say at this point.

Still speaking softly, the Professor said, "Ben's cousin Gwen called and got through to Chip. She's been trying his cell phone since yesterday."

Dexter frowned, realizing he'd forgotten all about Ben's phone. Ben was a chatterbox and the phone went far toward saving Dexter's sanity when he was working and Ben was not, not to mention being a lifeline when they were apart. "Where is his phone?"

"My lab, along with the rest of his clothes."

He opened his mouth to ask why the Professor had Ben's clothes and then shut it just as quickly. Of course his father would test for traces of DNA. DNA that didn't belong to Ben. He was more than a little frightened to think of what might have been found. He swallowed, and with effort he asked, "What did Gwen want?"

"She wants to see Ben. According to Chip, she sounded very upset."

"As well she might," muttered Dexter. "What did the sergeant tell her?"

"He could only confirm that Ben was here."

With zero enthusiasm, Dexter asked, "Is she coming?"

Understanding his son's sentiment, the Professor sighed. "Yes."

"When?" was the cautious and highly suspicious inquiry.

"Within the hour."

"Nnnff," grumbled the Boy Genius, gritting his teeth. He had never met Gwen and had no real desire to meet her, but given some of the stories Ben told about her, he had a very hard time accepting the fact that Ben loved her dearly. But family was family and Dexter had DeeDee and all she entailed to prove how far love could carry (or push) a relationship. Then again, Ben was mild and forgiving and Dexter was . . . not. He crossed his arms with a huff, looking at the floor. "I suppose she'll want to see him."

Unconsciously, Utonium imitated his stance. "Uh, yeah, safe assumption."

"Dad, I respect your advice to let Ben tell me in his own time what happened, but I need more information if I'm to be of any help to him."

"Dexter . . ."

He held his hands together as if in prayer, pressing his fingertips to his lips for a moment. "Just . . . correct me if I'm wrong. I promise not to use conventional weapons . . . yet," he muttered to himself. Taking a deep breath, he carefully stated, "Ben has been the victim of a sexual assault, yes/no?"

Utonium nodded silently, not looking away for an instant. Dexter stared up at him intently, knowing the Professor would not tell an untruth.

"An assault that did not go so far as . . . as rape," he finished with considerable difficulty. He clasped his hands tightly, trying not to tremble.

"Correct."

"But would have, had Ben not left."

"Conjecture."

Knowing he couldn't fool his father, Dexter nodded. He swallowed, forcing himself not to lead his witness and to finish what he had started. "Up to this event, the person that did this was a close friend. Someone Ben loved and regarded."

A small sigh, pursed lips, and a flash of grief in those gray eyes was all the answer Dexter needed. An almost overwhelming sadness filled him at the enormity of Ben's pain, pushing aside his fury for the moment.

"Dad?"

"Yes?"

"I need a hug," he said miserably, walking straight into that tall form with the open arms, to rest his head against his father's chest. He clung to the Professor's lab coat with both hands, grateful for the strong embrace enfolding him, and it occurred to him that the Professor probably needed this as much as Dexter. They stood that way for a very long time, each finding comfort and support in the other and bracing for what promised to be a difficult meeting.

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

The inevitable call came less than an hour later, and not without a bit of resentment, Dexter told Morton to escort Gwen personally to the family's suite. The next step was to wake Ben, and he was as reluctant to rouse as Dexter was to rouse him.

"Ben? Ben, I need you to wake up."

"Nnnn."

"Ben . . ."

"Fife min," muttered the brunet, rolling away and trying to burrow deeper into the couch.

"The house is on fire."

"No 'is not."

"Fine. I sold this sofa. Movers are coming for it. I don't want them to take you, too, my love."

The endearment slipped out automatically. Dexter hesitated, frightened he may have spoken wrong, but Ben was in full hit-the-snooze-button mode and far beyond noticing anything but the insides of his eyelids.

"Don' sell the rug. I'll lie there."

"That pillow is no longer yours, either, Mr. Tennyson. Hand it over."

"Creep." Pillow in hand, Ben flailed it in Dexter's general direction, caching the redhead on the knee but refusing to relinquish his weapon. Dexter raised an eyebrow at so feeble an attack.

"That was pathetic." He tried a new tack. "I have bad news to break to you Benjamin, and there's no easy or gentle way to do it, so I'll just come out and say it. Mr. Smoothy's stock has collapsed and the entire chain is out of business. I'm sorry."

Ben lifted his head, bleary green eyes glaring and his lips curled in a snarl at the very suggestion.

"That's really low, Dex."

"I'm short. Everything I do is low."

A small smile, the first real smile Ben had worn since he got here, was Dexter's reward. He hated that they had to abandon their banter and he had to remind Ben of everything that had happened. It wasn't fair. Not to Ben or to him.

"What's up?" asked Ben, slowly dragging himself upright. "Dinner?"

"Uh, no. We'll be eating a bit late today. When the girls get back. No. Um . . . someone is here to see you."

Still not quite awake, he looked around, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and looking far younger than his eighteen years. "Who?"

"Gwen. She called earlier and she's here at DexLabs. Sgt. Morton is escorting her the long way around."

Instantly sober, Ben let his breath out in a sigh. The childish look vanished, replaced by something more vulnerable and defensive. Dexter plucked up his courage and came to sit beside him, not touching but within easy reach. Just in case. Cautiously he said, "If you prefer not to see her right now or at all, I can make your excuses."

Ben was clearly tempted to avoid the situation completely, but after a few moments he said, "No. No. I'll talk to her."

Unable to stop himself, Dexter put his hand on Ben's knee. He couldn't tell if the faint tremor he felt was Ben's or his own as he said, "I'll stay with you if you want. Or Dad."

"No. No. I've got to talk her eventually. May as well get it over with now." He lifted Dexter's hand in his own, staring off at a point on the coffee table as he struggled to collect his thoughts. "Dex . . ." He swallowed and finally raised his eyes to Dexter's. "Did your dad . . . do you know . . . what . . ."

Softly he said, "In general terms, yes, but not in any detail."

Helplessly, Ben whispered, "I don't . . . I don't know what got into him or what he was thinking. I don't know what to do or what to think. I just . . . keep remembering."

He pressed his free hand to his mouth, leaning heavily into his hand and squeezing his eyes tightly shut. The whole situation was so repulsive, so out of his realm of experience that he had no words to describe his reaction. Dexter, who could only imagine Ben's anguish, leaned in against him.

"I'm right here, Ben. I'll stay close by if you need me. Anything you need, just say."

It was too much to hope that Ben might kiss him right now, and so Dexter made do with having his hand crushed in Ben's tight grip. They both jumped when the door chimed.

Looking as if he was on his way to a funeral, Ben asked, "Want me to get it?"

Dexter smiled. "It won't open for you. I'll get it. Shall I bring her here, or would you prefer the library or . . ."

"Here is fine, Dex. Just . . ."

"I'll be in the kitchen," he promised, and Ben nodded his gratitude.

He hurried up the stairs to the upper level of the suite, checking the comm unit by the door where the cameras in the hall outside showed Morton and a slim young woman with long red hair. Gwen. Dexter sighed, understanding Ben's desire to get this over with, and opened the door.

"Sir," Morton said instantly, fixing intense blue eyes on Dexter. "This is Miss Gwen Tennyson, here to see her cousin."

He nodded to Gwen, taking in her pale face and green eyes so much like Ben's. They looked alike, these cousins, to the point where they could probably pass as siblings. Dexter forced himself to be polite.

"Miss Tennyson. Welcome to DexLabs."

Tension radiated off of her, and it was with effort she survived these civilities and the show of manners. "Thank you, but I need to see Ben. Please."

"Of course. He's waiting for you. Please come in."

"Is your father home, sir?" demanded Morton.

Dexter shook his head. "He had to go to his lab. His algae experiment escaped again."

Without a word Morton followed Gwen inside the suite. Knowing there was no arguing and that Morton would bodily remove him from the house before leaving him in the company of a stranger, Dexter closed the door.

"This way, Miss Tennyson. Sergeant, I'll meet you in the kitchen."

Ben had not moved from his spot on the couch. Gwen let out a little gasp and hurried down the last few steps.

"Ben!"

"Gwen," was the weary reply.

He rose to meet her and Gwen threw herself into his arms. Dexter felt and odd pang - was it jealousy? - as he watched them for a moment, pausing on the stairs. He did not want to leave Ben. Not with her.

Jealousy? Yes. He'd never felt this way before. It was as interesting as it was unpleasant.

"Ben, are you all right?"

He walked slowly down the steps and pointed his feet toward the kitchen. He shouldn't eavesdrop, but . . .

"No," Ben said. "Not really."

"Kevin called me. He said . . . he said . . . something terrible. Something I can't believe."

What had Kevin said? Had he twisted the facts? Was Gwen's denial a bid to preserve her relationship?

"He said - he said he lost control the other night." Gwen was on the verge of tears, and her voice was filled with desperation. "Ben . . . please tell me it's not true. Please tell me he lied."

Softly, in barely a whisper, Ben10 replied. "I can't."


	18. Overheard

**Chapter 18: Overheard**  
><strong><br>**  
>He stood in the kitchen, desperately trying to catch anything Gwen might say without being obvious about his intent. For a moment and a glance or two Morton was silent, and then he said,<p>

"The best acoustics are over by the stove, sir."

Dexter gave him a look, wondering how much Morton knew or guessed about the situation, then quietly moved over a few paces. Morton stepped over and adjusted him slightly, then sat down at the counter to wait and watch. He was right. Dexter could just make out most of what was being said despite the hushed tones of both Tennysons.

"I don't pay you enough, Sergeant," he muttered in appreciation as Morton politely ignored his eavesdropping.

"Christmas is coming, sir."

**_()()()()()()()()()()_**  
><strong><em><br>_**  
>"Ben, what happened? Kevin called me last night - or maybe this morning – I don't know. But he was really upset. You know, for Kevin. A-and he wasn't really clear but what he said . . . frightened me."<p>

With a long sigh, Ben sank back down onto the sofa, resting his head back on the cushions and closing his eyes as Gwen sat beside him. With difficulty he finally rallied himself and said, "This isn't easy to say or hear, Gwen, but . . . Kevin assaulted me last night. In our room at the Sector T tree house."

He could almost feel her frown of confusion, and he wondered at the lack of indignant fury at the very suggestion that her boyfriend had gotten physical with her cousin. "Why?"

"I've been asking myself that since it happened. I know he's been frustrated lately."

"Frustrated? What with?"

"Both of us, for starters."

"What did _I _do?"

Now she was indignant; the suggestion that she might be responsible was enough to spark her temper. Typical. Ben let it slide. "That weekend he wanted to go to the lake and it rained?"

"I'm to blame for the weather?"

"Oh, I'm sure that's my doing," he replied wearily. "Everything always seems to be with him."

"What happened between you two? Why did it happen? You're saying Kevin . . . _attacked _you?"

It was Ben10's turn to frown, and he looked at her sharply. "I'm saying? I'm _saying?_ You keep asking _why_. Maybe you should be asking _how_. Gwen, Kevin cold-clocked me, messed up my shoulder again, pinned me against the wall and -" He paused, staring at her, able to read the expression in her eyes and unable to believe what he saw: doubt. "And tried everything in his power to get in my pants," he finished coolly. "Why? What did he say to you?"

Gwen pushed her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture, not quite meeting Ben's eye. "I only spoke to him on the phone. He admitted he's been really uptight lately -"

Ben snorted and rolled his eyes at this understatement.

"And he said . . ." She stopped.

"He said what?" Ben demanded softly, suddenly understanding her hesitation. "Come on, Gwen. Let's hear it. Let me hear how this is all my fault."

"He didn't say that!"

"He didn't have to. He made you think it. What the hell, do you think I actually wanted Kevin's tongue down my throat?"

She turned away at the crude, brutal image and tried to rise above his anger. "He said you've been distracted lately and that . . ."

He waited for it.

"That you're . . . seeing someone," she finished, and it was clear she was disappointed he hadn't told her. She, at least, would have been happy and excited for him . . . until she found out who he was seeing. Gwen had no love for Dexter even though they'd never met before today. He knew she found his leadership against the Fusion Invasion to be heavy-handed and his status as earth's biggest (and richest) contractor for the Plumbers extremely irritating since Dexter had direct contact with some very high-ranking Plumbers and never dealt with the grunts in the field - namely her and Kevin. She didn't trust him or his friendship with Ben, unable to see what might interest Dexter in the likes of Ben Tennyson beyond the Omnitrix.

"I'm allowed. I double-checked."

"Ben . . ."

He moved to kill the topic before she could change the subject completely. "My relationship, my business, Gwen. I've got a very good reason for keeping my mouth shut and I don't owe you or Kevin or anyone else on the planet an explanation about who I happen to be seeing."

"I know you don't, Ben, but Kevin -"

"Doesn't," he finished bitterly.

She sighed, deflated. Not even Gwen could argue that point. "Kevin . . . he said that you've been putting off so much energy."

He could see where this was going. "It's called being happy."

"Ben, we're Anodites. He's Osmosian -"

"We're a quarter Anodite and he's half Osmosian. The rest is all human, but I guess that doesn't count when it gets in the way of a half-decent excuse for his conduct." He felt a twinge of pain behind his eyes as a headache crept in upon him. Ben had no word for his present emotional state. He was defensive and disappointed and disgusted all at once, and he made no effort to hide what he was feeling. He would have given anything to replay time and take Dexter up on his offer to refuse Gwen entry to his property, but there was something therapeutic about raising his voice to his cousin. "So what is it? All my happy vibes and the fact that I've got a life outside of Kevin Ethan Levin just overwhelmed his self-control and begged him to rape me. Is that it? Ben, this is all your fault and Kevin is the victim?"

Ben paused, amazed at himself for saying what had happened aloud in so offhanded a tone. Yes. That was what had happened. Kevin had tried to rape him. The full impact of the situation struck him as he gazed at his cousin. They both stood to lose so much, but in light of what had happened, how could they possibly hold on? She was close to tears, and he wondered that the truth didn't revolt her.

"I didn't say that!"

"Then why aren't you mad enough to rip his head off his shoulders? If you don't believe Kevin, why don't you believe me? Were you hoping he was right so you wouldn't have to face what he did to me? Do you actually think I'd lead anyone on like that? Especially my cousin's boyfriend. Why are you here, Gwen? Is it for me or for you?"

"Ben . . . please." She looked at him with an injured expression. "I'm trying to understand. I know you're hurt. I know you're angry. Well, so am I! But I'm not going to run off half-cocked without proof."

"Is that what I'm doing? Seriously? You want proof? Look." He yanked up the sleeves of the shirt he was wearing to display the heavy bruises where Kevin had gripped his arms. "Look at what he did. He had to make sure I couldn't reach the Omnitrix. He's bigger and stronger than me. _Look,_ Gwen! Do you actually think I _wanted _this? What's worse - the fact that Kevin did this to me or the fact that you don't want to believe he did this to me?"

"But . . . why?" she begged.

Ben shrugged. "A sense of entitlement? Jealous? Horny? Maybe he thinks he owns me."

"He wouldn't think that!"

"Oh? Then maybe you can explain this to me, because I'm sure confused as hell by it all." He folded his arms, his shoulder aching as much as his head as he waited for Gwen to provide all the answers. He wasn't completely without sympathy for her as she helplessly tried to make sense of her boyfriend's conduct, but the fact that she had taken Kevin's word and side before his was galling. He sat and watched her struggle, knowing that for Gwen it was a matter of the truth being too terrible to accept even when the facts were laid out before her. In her mind there had to be a logical reason for Kevin to say he'd attacked her cousin, which simply meant that Ben had to have instigated the incident. It couldn't be that Kevin lusted after someone more than Gwen herself, that he looked at her cousin – her _male _cousin – as an object of sexual desire. She couldn't accept that the young man she loved might not be what she thought.

Saying that Ben had been putting off enough energy to drive Kevin to such an extreme sounded good, but was absurd. Osmosians _chose _to absorb energy or not. If the Tennysons putting off energy was enough to drive Levin to sexual assault, it would have happened years ago. Besides, Gwen was the one who controlled mana with a thought and a gesture, not Ben. She was a living battery. No. Kevin's conduct had been deliberate and their heritage was simply an excuse. Ben's refusal to reveal anything about his love life had turned curiosity to obsession and obsession to carnal desire. He had set a huge part of his life and attention out of Kevin's reach and in doing so triggered his possessiveness. There were few people that Kevin was genuinely close to, and he did not take well to newcomers, especially ones that might draw his friends away . . .

"I . . . I don't know what to think," Gwen finally confessed, hanging her head in misery.

"Yes, you do," he replied. "You just don't want to."

"Ben . . . please."

"This is not getting pushed off onto me. For the sake of peace and friendship, I've taken a lot of crap from him - and you at times, Gwen, don't deny it – but this . . . no. The only reason he's not under arrest right now is because I know what he could and would do to any officer outside of the Plumbers that tried to detain him."

"You want me to arrest him?"

"Do you actually think I'd do that to you?" he snapped. Through hard, narrowed eyes he looked at her, tired of having to defend himself against Kevin's conduct. "Why did you come, Gwen?"

"I want to know what happened."

"Really?" Ben replied. He seized her wrist. "Okay. Fine. Scan my memory. You can do that. I know you can. Do it. Now."

She tried to pull out of his grip, but he held on. "I don't think that's -"

"Then you don't want to know what happened."

Gwen let her breath out, looking anywhere but at her cousin. "Ben . . . I'm frightened."

"What do you think I was last night? Come on, Gwen." He released her arm to tap himself in the head for emphasis. "The truth is right here."

For a long time she just stared at him and he more than half expected her to leave. Her fingers were icy cold when she finally plucked up the courage to cup his face in her hands. Miserable and hesitant, Gwen finally closed her eyes, relaxing her body as she reached out with her mind.

He could feel her instantly, her warmth and energy. For a moment his headache was gone as she searched for the memory of last night. Respectful of his silence, she made no attempt to seek further or find out who he was seeing, and Ben thought back . . .

_. . . Dexter spilling cocoa on the floor. Utonium holding him as he wept. Landing heavily in the muddy garden. Fighting the wind and storm. Burning pain in his shoulder as Jetray flew through the night. Running through the cramped and spiraling corridors of the Sector T tree house, Kevin's desperate shout in his ears. Ben, wait! Standing over Kevin, consumed by fury and pain. A rough hand forced down his jeans, a greedy mouth clamped over his. You owe me this. Crushing pain on his wrist, his shoulder wrenched. A laugh as he tried to escape. I'll wait for Gwen but I've had it with waiting for you, Tennyson! Slammed into the wall. Shock. Horror. Disbelief. A body pressed full and hard against him. You little tease . . ._  
><em><br>_  
>Suddenly the horror and disbelief wasn't his alone. He heard a mental scream as Gwen's heart rose up in protest to what she was seeing. A torrent of emotion slammed into him, throwing him back and away from her mind with enough force that he twisted to the side, clutching his head in sudden agony as her own memories echoed through his head.<p>

_Gwen, something bad's happened. Ben's been driving me nuts and . . . and I lost my cool last night. Bad. Really bad. He flew off, probably to DexLabs. I dunno what got into me! He just . . . god, it was like when we were kids and I went crazy from the Omnitrix. Things started and I didn-couldn't stop them. Hurt? No. Maybe? Probably. I didn't mean – he left before I could . . . I dunno if I can explain. It doesn't seem real. Gwen, I didn't mean, I mean, I don't want . . . I don't know if he'll talk to me again. Tell him I'm sorry. Sorrier than anything. Tell him I lo-_

Gwen broke away, gasping and crying, taking the sound of Kevin's voice with her.

"He can't! He can't! He wouldn't! He can't have!" Her voice rose up in a panicked whisper.

"He did." Ben winced, feeling nauseous and faint. He had known letting her read his mind wouldn't be a pleasant experience, and he felt filthy all over again at reliving the attack. "You know I'd never make up something like this, Gwen."

"No," she softly moaned, hiding her face behind hands that trembled.

He stared at her, unable to look away as he sifted through the backlash of her emotions. She had come here hoping he would explain away or dismiss Kevin's actions and leave them with something to salvage. She wasn't any more equipped to deal with the ugly truth than Ben was, and far less willing to accept Kevin's guilt.

"Gwen?" he asked softly. As with Dexter the night before, he was anxious to offer comfort. Calming someone else's distress offered a glimmer of relief, a small point progress against an overwhelming situation. He reached out, laying a hand on her shoulder. To his shock she shrugged him off, slipping away from his touch. Stung at the rejection, Ben drew back.

"He wouldn't!" Gwen insisted, refusing to believe. "Ben, he wouldn't! Kevin's a good man!"

Her exclamation sent a twinge through him and he felt a growing anger as she rose to the defense of his attacker. It hadn't happened to her. It wouldn't have happened to her. After all, Levin had said he was willing to wait for Gwen. Ben, however . . .

"Why are you defending him?" he wondered softly.

"I don't know! Something must have happened to him. There has to be an explanation!"

"There is. You already heard it. It's just not what you want to hear," stated Ben. He felt a terrible pang in his chest as he realized there was no comfort, no support to be had from his dearest, closest cousin. He stared at her, more disappointed than he'd ever been in his life. He was more disappointed in her than he'd been with himself when he'd walked out on Dexter, and that was an achievement. He had banked on her support and yet she was more anxious to preserve the way things had been than accept the way things were now. It was a defensive move on her part he knew, one she would someday regret. He regretted it already. Her heart was ruling her head, a rare event for Gwendolyn Tennyson, and to put it mildly her timing sucked. The silence that fell between them was all the answer he needed. When finally his spoke his voice was hoarse, barely a whisper. "You're not going to get what you came here for, Gwen, so why don't you just go? You want to believe him, not me."


	19. Doubt

**Chapter 19: Doubt  
><strong>

How could Kevin have done this to her?

As soon as the question flitted through her thoughts, Gwen felt a rush of shame at her own selfishness. Kevin had done this to Ben. To Ben. He was the one with the bruises, not her. Still, by doing this to Ben, he had done this to her . . .

She stared into green eyes so similar to her own, desperately willing Ben to understand her stance. He wanted anger. He wanted her to take sides. He wanted her to accept his version of what had happened without question, as he would have done for her . . . and she couldn't. Compelling as his argument was, Gwen _needed_ to speak to Kevin face-to-face before taking action.

Was that an excuse? Was she clutching at straws to exonerate Kevin? She had only looked at Ben's memory of events as far as the attack. Had something happened in the days before to set Kevin over the edge?

Over the edge would have been rape. She shuddered to think of what might have happened if Ben hadn't defended himself. She knew how strong Kevin was and she knew the attack was unexpected in every possible way. What did it mean? Was Kevin attracted to Ben or was it everything Ben represented? Was it attraction at all or just a drive to dominate someone that had beaten Kevin time and again? Was it an Anodite thing? Or was it some twisted desire to collect the whole set and have relations with both Tennysons? Any way she looked at it, it made her feel sick at heart.

Had Ben consciously or subconsciously added to whatever motivated Kevin? It was highly unusual for Ben to keep quiet about anything, especially someone he was seeing though he'd dated just a handful of girls over the years. That he changed the habit of a lifetime for one person told her that he must be deeply attached to them, perhaps even truly in love. Was that it? She could see Ben's silence annoying Kevin even more than his talking. Kevin was protective and territorial of his friends to the point of stifling at times, and he resented outside influences or anything that threatened the dynamics of the team they'd built. She knew that he meant well, that he looked at Ben as a younger brother, but they weren't children any more.

Clearly.

Did he see Ben's relationship as a threat? Gwen had to admit she was a touch hurt that her favorite, closest cousin hadn't told her himself that he was seeing someone, but Ben's defensiveness was enough to make her back off the subject. She wouldn't appreciate such prying into her own business, Kevin even less so, and Ben was entitled to his privacy as much as the next person. Perhaps even more so since as a world-famous hero and general in a war he had so little of it anymore, but she could see Kevin expecting Ben to tell all.

And when he didn't talk . . . this had happened. Ben was pale, his tenuous calm disturbed anew to have experienced the assault again when she probed his mind. The sense of terror and betrayal lingered on in her memory, and her heart ached for him. His offering up of evidence and his inherent honesty weighed heavily in his favor. Kevin wasn't always the most savory character and his conduct was open to question at times, though she knew at his core he wanted to be good. No. He _was_ good. Something must have happened to trigger this attack.

But what if it hadn't?

What if Kevin . . . preferred Ben? Or even just desired him? Where did that leave her? She had never doubted before, and now that she did she knew there was no going back. Some things could not be unlearned. Kevin had always been so restrained and patient and even a bit shy with Gwen. He had never pushed or forced her into anything she didn't want to do and most of the time he had left it to her to initiate intimacy. Was this his way of saying he not want to be with her? Was her cousin so attractive – or so disposable – that Kevin saw no need to hold back? If Kevin saw Ben as an object or possession, how did he see her?

She looked at him frankly, not with the eyes of a friend or relative but as a young woman looking at a young man, and for the first time Gwen realized that Ben was remarkably handsome. She was so used to seeing him that she had never really considered his looks. His eyes were perhaps even greener than hers and his face had lost the cute roundness of youth as he gradually left his teenage years behind. Wiry and compact, he moved with an athlete's grace and his smile – something she had not seen in too long – was charming. She could not help but wonder - who was the lucky girl that got to see that smile? Did she know what had happened? How would she react?

He stood abruptly, not seeming to know what to do with his hands since he wasn't wearing his green jacket. Gwen quickly reached out, placing her hand on his arm to stop him.

"Ben."

He stared at her hand, then at her, waiting in silence for her to continue.

Faced by this cool reaction, Gwen floundered. "Where are you going?"

"To take another shower," he snapped, pulling out of her hold. "I feel filthy."

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

Unable to bear Ben's hurt tone anymore, Dexter stepped back into the living room of the suite to see Ben climbing the stairs. Gwen turned, surprised to see him, and he could only assume she had forgotten she was not alone with her cousin. He gave her a fleeting glance, dismissing her anxiety in light of Ben's. His boyfriend was slowly moving up the stairs. Dexter could sense Ben's barely-contained anger and disgust with his cousin - or perhaps he was imposing his own emotions on the scene. Certainly his opinion of Gwen Tennyson could not dip lower.

"Ben," he said softly. To his utter satisfaction and heartbreak, the brunet paused and then turned and looked at him.

"Use mine," offered Dexter, meaning the shower down in his private suite that Ben enjoyed so much. With a quiet, dispirited nod, the young man climbed the stairs. A few moments later they heard the door close behind him and he was gone without saying goodbye. Dexter finally looked in Gwen's direction. She was frowning.

"You were listening to our conversation," she accused.

"I was in the kitchen," was his non-committal reply, not about to get into the niceties of etiquette with a girl that defended the likes of Kevin Levin no matter her reasoning. "I will remind you, Miss Tennyson, that this is _my_ house."

"Ben's my cousin!"

"And my best friend," he said with haughty coolness, unimpressed by her defensive stance. "There's a reason he came here and not Bellwood."

_He came to me, not you._

"No one here doubts him. If you had been the one attacked do you honestly think that person would be alive still?" He made no attempt to mask the threat he was issuing, not caring how she took his words. "I promised my father not to act for fear of upsetting Ben. Otherwise Plumbers, invasion, friends, brothers, lovers be damned, the person that did this to my best friend would no longer exist." He glanced back to where his body guard stood in the doorway. "Sgt. Morton! You will please escort Miss Tennyson off of my property right now."

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

"It was awful, Dad. She didn't want to believe him."

They were standing in the genetics lab amidst the mess of an escaped experiment. Dexbots and a few lab techs scurried about cleaning the space, replacing broken equipment, and setting things right again. Utonium, covered with pinkish slime that reeked of petroleum and in desperate need of a shower himself, sighed and closed his eyes. "Where is Gwen now?"

"I kicked her out."

"Ouch. Ben?"

"Computress is tracking him. He's en route to my apartment. He wants another shower."

The Professor rubbed his face before he realized his hand was coated with slime. "Uhh!" he grumbled. "He was in the shower for the better part of an hour this morning."

"I know. _He_ knows."

"It's not an unusual response." He looked at his son, and the sadness in those gray eyes wasn't for Ben alone. He knew the toll this situation was taking on Dexter. "Are you headed there now?"

It wasn't unexpected, but this offer of support made his throat suddenly seem very tight. Unable to form a word, Dexter nodded.

"All right. You'll miss dinner but I'll let the girls know Ben's not feeling well." Instinctively he reached out, then remembered the slime coating him and ended up just gesturing. "Consider yourself hugged, young man."

"Yes, Dad," he said softly. "Thank you."

He found Ben, as expected, in the shower. That he was naked barely registered in Dexter's mind. What was far more important to him was the desperate intensity with which Ben was scrubbing his skin as he stood beneath a torrent of hot water. Without even bothering to remove his boots or undress, Dexter walked into the knee-deep pool. His glasses fogged immediately, so he took them off, and his lab coat trailed in the water. Gently, carefully, he took Ben's hands in his, afraid his boyfriend might do himself harm. Besides, who was the expert in decontamination?

"Let me, Ben. Please."

Dexter was rather glad he couldn't see well. It was bad enough being able to sense Ben's misery. To see it as well would have put his promise of restraint to the ultimate test. He had a brief glimpse of red-rimmed eyes before Ben bent his head low and he was enfolded in a loving hug. They stood there for a very long time, comrades, friends, and lovers, as the water poured down and over them and slowly worked to wash away a little of the pain.


	20. Sick Puppy

**Chapter 20: Sick Puppy**

"Dexter?"

He hated to wake him, but he had no choice. Speaking softly and laying a gentle hand on his back, Professor Utonium tried to rouse his son without disturbing Ben. Both boys were asleep on Dexter's bed, Ben under the covers, Dexter on top of them and curled into a tight ball against Ben's back.

"Dexter?"

Supremely unhappy to open his eyes, the redhead squinted up at Utonium and made a little sound of inquiry.

"You need to get up. You have an appointment in Medical at nine."

A long sigh answered and Dexter closed his eyes for a moment. He had been so focused on recent events that he had plainly forgotten – purposely or otherwise - he was due for another round of treatment for his leg. Looking up at his father with pleading blue eyes, he softly begged,

"Can we postpone it?"

"I already did once," whispered the Professor, his heart aching with sympathy for his child. He knew how uncomfortable and distressing each session of treatment was and how poorly timed this session was for all of them. Reaching out, he stroked Dexter's cheek and hair. "I can't put it off twice."

It was true. On one occasion bad weather had kept the technician from the Mayo Clinic from reaching DexLabs on schedule. By the time Dexter had gotten the treatment the hormone levels in his body had dropped so much that the series of injections had made him sicker than he'd ever been in his life.

"Coffee is on and I brought you something to eat. Leftover chicken picatta and rice. Come on."

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

Bowing to the inevitable, he nodded. The hormones worked better on a full stomach even though vomiting was included in the inevitable. Dexter looked at Ben, knowing he had to wake him. "I'll be out in a minute, Dad."

The Professor smiled faintly, his pride in Dexter's resolution evident. "I'll heat up your food. There's plenty for both of you. I brought his medication, too."

He waited until he was sure the Professor was in the kitchen before sitting up and leaning over Ben. It had not been an easy night. Just as Ben had scrubbed Dexter down a dozen times to decontaminate him, so Dexter had done for Ben to drive away the taint of Kevin Levin's assault. Gwen not rising to his defense had rattled Ben to the core, and the hurt ran so deep that Dexter was fairly certain that Ben was (metaphorically speaking) bleeding internally. The jealousy he'd felt for Gwen was gone, replaced for a few fleeting moments by a sense of superior triumph since Gwen knew Ben's faith lay with Dexter, not her. He had dismissed the feeling almost instantly, rather disgusted with himself for using the situation and Ben's response to it for his own satisfaction (though a spark of smug satisfaction lingered on in his mind for being able to toss her out the door).

Not knowing what else to do, he had wrapped Ben up warmly in blankets, made him some almost-passable hot chocolate, and just snuggled as close as he dared without seeming to crowd the older teen. Normally such attentions would have earned him at least an hour-long make out session with some of his clothes being yanked off, maybe a hickey or two. In this case, though, Dexter was happy just to get a few words out of Ben. When he started nodding off it had not been hard for Dexter to persuade him to lie down and sleep, though his sleep - and therefore Dexter's - had been troubled.

And now he had to wake him. Indulging himself – since at the moment necking seemed out of the question - Dexter leaned over and kissed Ben lightly on the ear, remembering the almost sinful pleasure of tracing the curves and channels of that organ and hearing Ben come close to giggling at his touch. Dexter stared, wondering at himself and his fixation. It was an ear. Just an ear. Part of a matched set. Everyone had them, but being _Ben's_ ears, he was absolutely entranced. By an ear.

He had it bad.

"Ben?" he whispered, leaning close. "I have to go."

The brunet stirred.

"I'm sorry to wake you. I have an appointment in Medical. My leg again. I don't want you wondering where I went."

Muttering sleepily, Ben shifted, rolling onto his back and grimacing as his shoulder was jostled. He blinked up at Dexter, trying to wake up and catch up at the same time. "Hmm?"

He could not help but smile. Ben was adorable. "I have to go to Medical. I'm scheduled for another round of treatment for my leg."

"Mmmph," muttered Ben10, his eyes slamming shut. He lay still a few moments, then hoarsely asked, "You want me to go with you?"

He hadn't expected the offer, but that Ben would want to be with him when he was at his worst sent a quiet thrill through Dexter. Still, he knew that he was going to be beastly and probably very sick all day and into tomorrow, and it was only fair that Ben knew all the gory details before committing himself.

"I feel I should warn you that this round was pushed back a few days. It's going to be bad. Very bad."

Ben shrugged, and with two words he made Dexter fall in love all over again. "Yeah, well."

"Would you?" breathed Dexter. "It would mean so much."

"Yeah."

"And if you need to leave, I'll understand. Well, I say that now but later I might not be so reasonable, so I'll tender my apologies in advance."

The faintest of smiles sent Dexter's heart racing as Ben softly promised, "I won't leave you."

"Thank you," he replied with absolute sincerity, resisting the temptation to follow the words with a kiss and completely unaware that his emotion was written all over his face. He wasn't wearing his glasses, and without them he was far less guarded with his expressions. "Dad has some food for us, and your medication."

"Food sounds good."

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

Despite the fact that he was warm and the bed was comfortable, his shoulder was throbbing and moving was going to be a challenge. He resolved to ask the Professor to re-wrap it once they reached Medical. For right now, though, he lay still and let himself enjoy the sight of Dexter without glasses. Since he couldn't read expressions without his glasses on, the redhead seemed under the impression that people somehow couldn't read his. The look in those blue eyes was quite enough to melt Ben's heart and he both wished and feared for Dexter to kiss him. Nice as it would have been, it was perhaps not quite the right moment for something so intimate and precious. He did not want to affect or infect his boyfriend (_his _boyfriend_, Levin, his wonderful, cute, charming, hot-tempered, cold-hearted, loving, ruthless, well connected, filthy rich, possessive_ boyfriend) with the violence that Kevin had done to him, but he would stay with Dexter as Dexter had stayed with him throughout this ordeal.

"I have to send upstairs for some clothes," Dexter announced when his plate of chicken and rice was half-empty. "I don't have a clean coat down here."

"Go like that," suggested the Professor in a playful tone.

Dexter looked down at the Major Glory t-shirt and Buttercup's old sweat pants he was wearing, then up at his father in disbelief. "No."

"You're going to end up in scrubs anyway."

"Scrubs are not emblazoned with super heroes."

"I could arrange that."

"No."

"You just don't want anyone to know you've got Major Glory pj's."

"I don't care if they know that I have them."

"You just don't want anyone to know you wear them," reasoned the Professor. "Well most people here think you only have one outfit anyway."

Dexter scowled. It annoyed him to be the subject of gossip, and Ben wondered what he would say if he knew he had a laundry list of urban legends attached to him and his inventions. Sounding disgusted, Dexter said, "The clothes don't make the man. _They_ also think I have a speech impediment and can't tell time."

"Can you?"

"Yeees, Dad," was the sarcastic confirmation.

"Just checking." The Professor cast both boys a sly glance. "What if I got you a Ben10 t-shirt? Would you wear that?"

A squeaky little growl emerged from Dexter's throat and a blush crept up his cheeks. He was suddenly very interested in pushing the rice around on his plate. "You know perfectly well I'd never take it off."

Ben, who had been applying himself steadily to his food as father and son bantered, could not help but smile as much at Dexter as at his words. As they watched the genius slid down in his seat with a little grumble, heartily embarrassed to be the focus of their attention even though Ben's smile gave him great pleasure. Utonium lay off his gentle teasing, saying, "I'll get you some clothes so DexLabs won't see you in your jammies."

"Thanks. I want a Ben10 t-shirt, too!" Dexter called after him as the Professor headed toward the comm unit. He fell back in his seat before sneaking in a shy look at the brunet, and then it was Ben's turn to blush.

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

_Very bad_ turned out to be a gross understatement. The day was hard on all parties concerned, especially Dexter. The hormones, set to stop Dexter's body from growing - and running completely contrary to nature - triggered a bout of nausea the likes of which he had never experienced. Nothing helped as his body went from feverishly hot to freezing cold and back. At first the music he'd chosen bored him, but silence was worse. The soft bed was at once comfortable and suffocating, and he was too weak and dizzy to pace as he wanted. Everything felt wrong and it seemed impossible that he had ever been healthy, that he was even healthy now.

Throughout the day, Ben stayed with him. He endured all the whining and vomiting, freed Dexter of the blankets when he was too hot, covered him again when he was chilled, changed the station when Dexter was sick of listening to a particular type of music, added and removed pillows as the redhead's whims changed, all without a single word of complaint.

John Cardon, chief of DexLabs Medical, was as relieved as any of the staff to have Tennyson along to keep Dexter from having a complete melt down. Not that they blamed Dexter for his raving outbursts (the female nurses in particular being sympathetic to anyone with their hormones out of whack), but there was no denying that Dexter behaved better when Ben was present, especially when Tennyson was hurting.

Cardon had sunk his claws into Ben the moment he stepped foot in Medical this morning, giving the young man his patented frown when he realized Ben had unwrapped the bandages and had strained his shoulder again. Utonium got to bear the brunt of the doctor's wrath as Ben was swathed anew in bandages and plied with pain killers and anti-inflammatory medication that left him pleasantly numb and able to endure Dexter's whining. Still, there was something about Ben's quiet devotion and attentiveness to the young genius that sparked the doctor's interest. Astute enough to know that something traumatic had happened to Tennyson, he was also discreet enough to reserve his observations for Utonium alone.

"Ben's suddenly very quiet," he said in a hushed voice as they fortified themselves with coffee.

Staring into the mug of dark liquid, the Professor said just as softly, "For Ben, yes. What did you give him?"

Cardon snorted, well aware that Utonium was being evasive. "He's a lot mellower than one shot of Tylenol can explain." He looked at his boss' father squarely, one doctor to another. "I know trauma when I see it, Pat, physical and mental. Looks like he's had a bit of both."

The Professor said nothing, and his silence said all.

"Does he need anything? Anything at all?" pressed Cardon after considering the most likely reasons for Ben's condition.

"He promised to talk to me if he does."

"How is Dexter handling this?"

"He's frightened and worried, same as I am, but he promised not to do anything."

"Oh, well," Cardon replied, disappointed. At Utonium's sour look he raised his hands. "What? Your kid blows things up for fun and profit."

They both paused and winced at the sound of Dexter being sick. Again. Cardon shook his head.

"Before he strains something, will you _please_ let me give him something for nausea?"

"In a little while," was the calm reply. "Ben needs something to focus on besides his own hurt."

"Get him a puppy, then!"

Down the hall, they heard Dexter groan and Ben speaking a few words of comfort that were too soft to make out, but his tone was clear.

Patrick Utonium smiled. "I already did."


	21. Bex

**Chapter 21: Bex  
><strong>

"Yo, yo, Daddy-o, any idea where Bex is hiding?"

The Professor looked from his microscope to see mischievous green eyes smiling at him from across the table. Buttercup knew perfectly well she wasn't supposed to use that nickname outside of their suite, but she also knew that he found the name amusing and cute and wouldn't do much more than make faces at her, which he did.

"Not here," he corrected, trying to be stern.

Leaning on her hand, Buttercup looked around the lab and under the table, deliberately misinterpreting his meaning. "Yeah, no sign of 'em."

"If he's finished up his classes for the day, your brother should be down in his lab."

"With his green shadow?" she asked with a wry smile. It was a fitting nickname since the boys were rarely more than three feet apart and followed each other around like a pair of lost puppies.

Like Dexter, the Powerpuff Girls were delighted to have Ben staying with them, but unlike Dexter, they didn't know the whole story. They only knew that Ben's shoulder had been re-injured and that they were not allowed to rib him about it. That was perfectly fine with the three girls – as far as they were concerned, there was no time to waste with teasing (or, at least, not too much time) or even questioning their good fortune when there was a live-action yaoi romance going on right before their eyes. This stuff was pure gold and almost too good to be believed. Having front-row seats to a private fandom as their shrimpy, socially inept, totally smitten, slightly older brother interacted with the tall, witty, broody, handsome and ever-appealing Ben Tennyson was worth any price and practically a dream come true. As far as the girls were concerned, the two young men were adorable together and every look, comment, and touch _had _to have some deeper meaning (even if Ben was just handing Dexter the salt at dinner), and if it wasn't instantly obvious, they made something up to suit. Bubbles had been provided with enough fodder to produce reams of fluffy Bex fanfic, which her highly appreciative sisters devoured as quickly as she could write. Ben found the triplets entertaining and just a little annoying. The girls had never giggled and cooed so much and Dexter had never rolled his eyes quite so much as in the week following Ben's arrival.

So long as everything stayed under wraps and they boys weren't harassed too badly, the Professor just let the children sort themselves out and made sure that nothing Bubbles wrote ended up on the internet. He politely refused to beta read her fanfic – he was too afraid of where her imagination might be going and he didn't want to be scarred for life – but occasionally he did read some of her stories just to assure himself that she wasn't getting terribly graphic. He needn't have worried – the sweetest of his daughters wrote stories as sugary and cute as she was, and the only real danger would be from cavities or Dexter's scorn if he ever saw himself starring in a high school fic, or, worse still, a songfic.

"Of course," the Professor replied as if it was perfectly obvious (which it was). Glad to lay off his research for a moment, he imitated her posture. "Why? What's up?"

"'Member Benji was asking after Albedo?"

"Yeah," he replied soberly.

"Rumor has it Sector T KND spotted him in Ashton. That's just a few klicks north of Bellwood."

"Rumor?"

"Same jacket and hair, but they said he still looked . . . off."

"Did they say where he was or exactly what he was doing?"

Buttercup nodded. "Yeah - walking toward the bus station."

"When?"

"Yesterday afternoon. They've got feelers out to find him again."

A sigh escaped him. Ben was emerging from his shell only very slowly, and he couldn't imagine what this news would do. Still, he had to be told.

"Thanks, honey. Let me know if you hear anything else. I'll make sure Ben knows."

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

The silence was maddening.

Dexter was quite used to working alone, something he usually preferred. When there was another person within earshot of his work station, though, he was not only highly aware of their presence, but after years of having DeeDee invade his space, unless the person was assisting him, he expected a steady stream of mayhem. He could actually function very well in such cases because he was forced to concentrate harder than if all was quiet. Ben was usually very good at annoying him, being fidgety and easily bored, but right now he was not delivering.

"Ben?"

Kevin's attack was little over a week old and Ben was very slowly returning to his old self. Dexter tried not to hover too much out of fear of driving Ben as crazy as he was now driving Dexter, but he couldn't help himself. Perhaps this was simply a case of turnabout being fair play.

He had made several attempts to bring up the subject of Gwen and what Ben wanted to do now, but every time he did, Ben just shook his head and maintained his silence. Dexter's stress levels were reaching new highs, though he did his best to conceal it. The Professor hadn't even voiced a word of protest when Dexter and Ben had shared the same bed every night - he seemed perfectly (and correctly) assured that nothing was going to happen between the two teens. Sometimes Dexter woke up with Ben wrapped around him or he'd wake to find himself draped atop Ben, but that was all. Dexter was afraid to initiate anything like intimacy and Ben just didn't. Not a kiss, not a single accidentally-on-purpose groping, not a peck on the cheek, no wandering hands, not a hint of Ben wanting to do more than sleep. Nothing. Nada. Zero. Zip. Zilch.

Talk about maddening.

What was even more frustrating (if that was possible), Ben did not seem interested in pursuing any sort of action against Kevin and it was a topic Dexter did not dare broach. It was possible Ben was simply biding his time. Dexter hoped so. He did not want Levin to go unpunished, little realizing that Ben's silence was torture for the likes of Kevin Levin. They could not risk the girls finding out, either, because he knew perfectly well they would declare full-out war on the Osmosian (before coming home and writing an epic fanfic saga about it - by Einstein, was he actually the subject of silly stories written by giggly girls? It was unthinkable). Ben no longer carried his phone, either, leaving it turned off in the guest room. Gwen had called DexLabs almost daily, but Ben ignored the messages Sgt. Morton dutifully delivered by hand.

He turned his seat to where Ben was dozing against the caisson of a Null-Void howitzer. With inactivity forced upon him, Ben's shoulder was getting better and his mood was gradually shifting from destroyed to simply miserable, a marked improvement, sad though it was. Dexter had been in the room when the Professor had told Mandy and Number One in no uncertain terms that short of Planet Fusion landing smack atop DexLabs, Ben was not to be disturbed. Dexter, however, was not included in that order, and therefore disturbing was authorized, as it were.

"Ben?"

"Mmmyeah, Dex?" he muttered, jerking awake. He blinked and yawned, rubbing his face.

"It's too quiet. I need some noise."

"Music?" suggested Ben, eyebrows raised at the obvious suggestion.

Dexter brushed the idea aside. "Too predictable. Here."

He picked up the nearest text book and rolled his chair over to Ben, opening the heavy volume at random. "Read to me."

Ben looked at the text and frowned. "Uh, Dex, this book is in French."

"I know. Read."

"But . . . I don't know how to pronounce French. I only took Spanish in high school."

"Good. Read."

Ben shrugged gamely and humored him. It was a massacre as the brunet plowed through astrophysics, destroying as he went. Dexter found himself correcting Ben every few words. To hear Dexter speak French through his heavy Eastern European accent amused Ben as mightily as Ben's murder of the French tongue annoyed (and therefore entertained) Dexter. Ben didn't even try to pick up the pronunciations thrown his way, he just kept at it with the occasional foray into high school Spanish when the accents looked right.

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

Dexter was growling corrections in Ben's general direction when the Professor came down to the laboratory. He paused to watch the two young men for a few moments, and he was immensely pleased to see Ben was smiling faintly as Dexter expounded on the merits of an accent aigu versus a circumflex. Utonium knew perfectly well that Ben rarely bothered to follow more than one word in ten when Dexter was lecturing like this and that the accent and fiery temper were what held his attention.

"You done? Want me to keep reading?"

"Yes and yes, Ben, but please remember that _oi_ produces a _w_ sound."

Tennyson stared at him. "Right," he said, and promptly ignored the correction and went on killing French astrophysics for the sake of chaos and mayhem in Dexter's laboratory. The Professor watched Dexter wince a few more times as Ben stumbled over the long, scientific terms in a foreign tongue.

"All right! I give up!" Dexter abruptly yelled, slamming his hands down. "You win, Ben! Stop reading! No more. I can't take it. You have killed French!" he ended dramatically, pointing across his work station at the Wielder of the Omnitrix.

Ben paused, peering over the edge of the book for a moment, then went right back to reading as if Dexter hadn't said a thing. A happily infuriated shout escaped the redhead, and Utonium picked that moment to make his presence known.

"Having fun, are we?"

Dexter's shout ended in a strangled squeak as the sight of his father. "No!"

"Yes," said Ben at the same moment.

"Good," Utonium replied, sitting on the computer table. Ben's pleasure trumped Dexter's ire and his son fell into a minor pout that had no effect whatsoever on their sympathies. "I was just talking to Buttercup and she had some interesting news."

Both boys looked wary, wondering what adorableness they had committed this time. The Professor spared them and addressed Ben directly.

"Albedo was spotted in Ashton yesterday, by the bus station."

Ben set the textbook down. "That's not far from Bellwood."

They waited for more out of him as he weighed the significance of the trapped and disappointed Galvan so close to his family and friends and home. Finally he stirred. "Professor, can I borrow your phone?"

Utonium handed over his cell phone. Ben paused, looking at his boyfriend.

"You get reception down here?"

Dexter folded his arms and huffed. "Benjamin, you offend me."

"Okay, good," said Ben, skipping over the offense and getting straight to dialing. Dexter glanced at Utonium, nervous. Dexter was trying very hard to hide how stressed he was over this whole situation, but the Professor knew him too well for him to mask his anxiety very well.

"Gwen? It's me. I just had it on good authority that Albedo was seen in Ashton yesterday, so he's probably in Bellwood today. I don't know what he's up to, but he hasn't been seen since the Battle of Citiesville. Keep a look out for him. Call my cell phone if he gets out of hand. I promise I'll answer." He hung up the phone and returned it to the Professor, explaining, "Voice mail."

Father and son gazed at him with open concern, but Ben just smiled faintly before pulling the astrophysics book close again. "Should I keep going?"

"Please," Dexter replied, and in his voice was all the unspoken fear and worry he was feeling.


	22. Holding On and Letting Go

**Chapter 22: Holding On and Letting Go**

Nestled together on the sofa in Dexter's thoroughly bland bedroom, they were hiding from a rainy evening and Dexter's starry-eyed, ever-slashing, gung-ho sisters. Dexter was absorbed in numbers and charts as he reviewed some production reports from his DexCorp robotic plant, now and then muttering softly to himself or to the pages before him. Ben, a nerd surrounded by bigger nerds, had borrowed a stack of comic books from Buttercup and was catching up on the adventures of _Spore._

Both young men were aching. Dexter, used to the discomfort his leg caused, sat with his back to the arm of the sofa and his right leg extended alongside Ben's much longer legs. Knowing that Ben's shoulder was hurting him, he glanced up now and then to check on his companion as the brunet worked his way through the comic books. It was a relief to see Ben so relaxed. Dexter felt some of his own tension lift in light of his boyfriend's preoccupation, allowing him to focus better on the reports. Leaning back into the soft pillow behind him, he ignored his leg and gladly lost himself in the maze of numbers.

So deeply engrossed was he that it was a good ten or fifteen minutes before he glanced up again to check on Ben, and when he finally did so, Dexter was quite surprised to find Ben returning the look. Dexter smiled a quick, pleased, almost shy smile before flipping a page on the report and going back to reading. Ten minutes later, Ben was still gazing at him. Dexter wondered at that, asking,

"Finished reading?"

"No," Ben replied simply, a hint of a smile on his face.

There was a pause of a few seconds before he could answer. "Oh."

A quiet thrill coursed through Dexter, sending his heart racing and making his breath catch for a moment. Ben had long been in the habit of watching him work, usually when Dexter was unconscious of the attention. He had asked him once what was the attraction, and Ben had said "Red hair and glasses." When Dexter had dug a bit deeper, Ben had confessed he loved seeing the intensity of Dexter's focus – though he liked it even more when he was the subject of his boyfriend's attention, which of course resulted in Ben being the sole object of interest for Dexter until such time as something happened along to interrupt them, since once he was aware of Ben's interest he was usually incapable of paying attention to anything else.

Dexter would have liked nothing more than to indulge in the usual next step in these instances, which normally involved him laying hold of Ben's jacket and yanking him in close enough to lock lips and (hopefully) not emerge for an hour or so except to come up for air. He did not dare anything so extreme right now – indeed, he didn't dare anything at all. If there was to be a next move, Ben had to make it. He stared at the young man opposite him, belatedly realizing his expression betrayed his hope and renewed anxiety. It was too late to fix the slip and he looked down, feeling himself blush. Was he reading too much into this? What if Ben simply wanted to watch him work for a while? It wasn't right or fair to assume all their old habits would survive Kevin's interference, and he felt a twinge of pain at how much damage the Osmosian's selfishness had caused.

He was well on his way to working himself into a quiet state of panic when Ben abruptly shifted his weight, sitting up and setting aside the comic book he'd been holding. He didn't stand, but instead reversed direction, crawling the short distance to Dexter's little corner of the couch. Looking like some green-eyed predator, he smirked as he inched one hand forward between Dexter's knees. Astonished, a small squeak escaped the younger teen as Ben laid hold of the bottom hem of his lab coat and pulled hard, sliding Dexter down the pillow until the redhead was flat on his back. On hands and knees Ben leaned over him, well pleased with himself.

"Busy?" asked Ben.

Dexter glanced at the report as if he had no idea of what it was or what it was doing in his hand and with a tiny sound of "Meh," tossed it aside. His boyfriend or projected production in DexCorp Plant II? There was no competition. He stared up at Ben, unable to contain his longing or calm his breaths. It amazed him still that he was so completely, hopelessly smitten with this gorgeous young man and said gorgeous young man felt exactly the same way about him.

A gentle hand traced his cheek before Ben carefully removed Dexter's glasses, setting them on the coffee table. In that instant, Dexter was undone. It was a simple precaution, but one that spoke volumes to them both. In his consideration to keep the glasses from harm, Ben was assuring that Dexter would not be deprived of sight and thus left vulnerable. He always set them within easy reach and made sure Dexter knew where they were. By allowing Ben to remove his glasses, Dexter was placing all his trust in him, confident that Ben would not harm him or exploit this weakness. A small gesture, a sensible measure, but it was precious to them both for all the meaning and promise it held.

"So can you see me?" asked Ben. It was a little game of theirs and the only real use Dexter could find for bad vision - it was the perfect excuse to get up close and personal.

"No," he answered in all honesty, squinting.

Mindful of Dexter's leg, Ben lowered himself closer. "Can you see me now?"

"No."

Moving slowly, he laid full length alongside and partially atop the redhead, being careful not to crush him or put any pressure on his right leg. Dexter kept still, letting Ben lead them as far along as he was able to go right now. It didn't matter. Anything, anything he wanted, Dexter would give without hesitation.

"Now?"

"Almost," Dexter whispered, unable to look away.

They were nose-to-nose. "Better?" asked Ben, sliding his hand around Dexter's neck and up through his hair.

"Much," he managed to say, his voice barely audible.

For the longest time Ben was still, just gazing at him as if he was trying to memorize every aspect of his features or perhaps just savoring the moment and the rekindling of their former intimacy. Slowly, as if he might frighten him, Dexter reached out to touch Ben's brow, stroking his fingers down the brunet's cheek. He was trembling, and Ben smiled the tiniest bit at the catch of latex gloves against his skin as he leaned into the caress.

"I've missed you," Tennyson softly declared. "So much."

"I'm right here," promised Dexter.

Breathed Ben, "I know."

The kiss that followed these words was as welcome to Dexter as rain in the desert. For a long moment the gesture was soft and gentle as he tried to show Ben through touch alone that he was safe, that he would never harm him or demand anything Ben was unwilling to give. It was something Ben already knew, but needed to be shown again. Tennyson pulled back but not away, breaking the kiss but not the connection, and Dexter wrapped his arms around him and held Ben as if he would never let him go.

Because he never would.

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

Suddenly it was as if a floodgate had opened. All the fear and want and anger and confusion Ben had suppressed since Kevin assaulted him rose to the fore and it was too much to contain. Held in strong and willing arms, pressed close against the wonderful young man that loved and trusted and believed in him more than anyone ever had before, Ben was helpless to stop the quiet wail of grief the rose in his throat. He wanted to be rid of the sickening dread that filled him and forget Kevin Levin existed. He wanted to curl up against him and weep, hide his face in the soft fabric of Dexter's turtleneck, kiss him and hold him and show him exactly how much he loved him, then wake up and do it all over again.

And since there was nothing in the world to stop him, he did.


	23. Promises

**Chapter 23: Promises**

Ben Tennyson had passed the 'curl up and weep' and the 'hide his face in Dexter's turtleneck' phases and was well into the 'kiss him and hold him and show him exactly how much he loved him' stage of his plan when his cell phone rang.

Dexter jumped as if he'd touched a live wire, stiffening in Ben's hold at the sudden disturbance. Ben would have done the same thing except for the fact that with his hands in Dexter's back pockets, he couldn't. They were too entwined, too tangled up in one another's clothes, and too surprised by the thoroughly unexpected and unwelcome interruption to do more than gasp and curse. It didn't matter. The delicate and intimate mood was shattered. The look on Dexter's face must have been as pained as his own, and he felt a wave of disappointment and misery at what might have been. Reality crashed down upon them both and Ben sighed, lowering his head to Dexter's chest.

"Ben?" whispered Dexter, stroking his fingers through brown hair.

He stared into unhappy blue eyes, trying to ignore the musical ring emanating from his pocket in the hopes that it would simply go away. He did not want to move or let go or find out what was wanted of him.

"That's really annoying," stated the genius.

"Yeah. It's Gwen," he muttered. He made a face, wishing he'd flushed the phone days ago. "I -"

"You promised, Ben," Dexter replied, carefully shifting to give his lover some room on the couch. His clothes and hair were disheveled and he was trying very hard not to look upset though he clearly was. Even if he wasn't, Ben was plenty upset for him.

Reluctantly he pulled out his cell phone and answered it without the least bit of interest or enthusiasm in his voice. "Yeah, Gwen?"

_"Ben! Thank god!"_

She was certainly relieved. Something bad must have happened. Strangely, Ben didn't feel the least bit alarmed. In the past he would have been up in arms immediately and heading for the door, but right now the only thing he wanted to do was return to Dexter's embrace and let the world go on without him.

"What's up?"

_"Albedo. You were right, he showed up in Bellwood. We got reports from the alien sector that he was spotted and . . . Ben, there's something wrong with him."_

"You mean more wrong?"

_"You know what I mean. I saw a few seconds of some security footage. His face is different. Wrong. He looks . . . skittish, almost scarred."_

"Any idea of what happened?"

_"No, but he was behaving erratically. A few people who saw him told Kevin he was talking nonsense to himself."_

At the sound of his attacker's name dropped so easily from his cousin's lips, Ben twitched. So. Gwen was still talking to him.

_"Ben?"_

He couldn't answer. Gwen guessed his distress.

_"Ben, he's the only other Plumber agent on earth and with you still at DexLabs, I need his help. I don't like it and he knows that, but I can't do this alone."_

He took a deep breath, holding it for a moment before exhaling very slowly. She was right, and at least this time she wasn't making excuses for Kevin's conduct. Besides, Ben was the one who told her to call if she needed him, and he couldn't fault her for doing as he'd asked.

God, what had happened to them? They had been a team and a damned good one. What had happened that Kevin should think of assaulting him?

He swallowed, aware of Dexter watching him intently. "I know. What do you need?"

_"Help. Kevin's vanished."_

"What?" Even in his own ears his voice sounded dead.

_"I'm asking for your help in finding Kevin. He was tracking Albedo and he vanished. I can't raise him or track his Plumber's badge."_

"Why did he go alone?"

Gwen sighed. _"I didn't know what he had planned. I was still in class when he left. I think . . . I think maybe he's trying to spare me or – or make up in some way for . . . for . . ."_

_For slamming you against the wall and wrenching your shoulder and shoving his hand down your pants and his tongue down your throat and molesting you and threatening you because he somehow thinks he owns you –_

"Ben?"

Dexter's whispered voice penetrated his chain of thought, bringing him back to the here-and-now with a tiny start. He reeled slightly, shaking free of the memories as he covered the small hand Dexter lay on his arm with his own icy fingers. For all his quirks, the redhead was the most grounded person Ben knew and he was never more grateful for that than this moment.

"You want me to help you find him," he confirmed with Gwen.

_"Please. I know it's incredibly hard on you and I know it's unfair, but you know Albedo best and, well, you know Kevin really well, too."_

There was no chance of him keeping the bitterness out of his tone. "I thought I did."

Suddenly his cousin sounded weary and old beyond her eighteen years. _"Ben, if it makes any difference, Kevin and I talked the night I broke up with him. He didn't deny or contradict your side of things, but he's so sorry and he regrets what he did so much."_

"Bully," he grunted, unmoved. "Listen, Gwen, I'm coming, but _only _to help you. When we find him, he'd better not say a single word to me about how sorry he is or I swear I'll break his jaw."

Dexter's eyes narrowed sharply as his suspicions were confirmed. Able to hear only Ben's side of the conversation, it hadn't taken much for him to put the pieces together.

_"Thank you," _breathed Gwen.

"I'll meet you at Mr. Smoothie in half an hour."

_"I'll be there."_

He hung up the phone, staring at it instead of looking at Dexter. He could feel the weight of his boyfriend's gaze. Dexter was keeping his response in check and waiting for him to talk. He resisted the urge to squirm. It was at least as bad as being in trouble with his mom or the Professor. Bracing himself, he finally said,

"Albedo."

"Has returned to Bellwood and is responsible for Levin's disappearance and now you're being called upon to go find him and clean up his mess," reasoned the Boy Genius.

He made it sound so neat and two-dimensional. "Yeah."

"Neither of those men are worth the risk of you getting hurt, Mr. Tennyson."

"Albedo is more than Gwen can handle on her own."

Dexter was silent, and Ben knew he was thinking of DeeDee and how he wouldn't let her do any number of things without assistance. In Gwen's defense, she was far more capable than DeeDee, but the brotherly urge to protect was just as strong in Dexter as Ben.

"Will you take my Null-Void?"

"I'm a lousy shot, Dex."

"Just make certain your cousin is behind you when you pull the trigger."

"Yeah, why don't you get it for me?" he said, knowing full well Dexter just wanted to do something, anything to protect him since he wouldn't and couldn't stop Ben. Odds were against him using the gun, but he would take to make Dexter happy.

The owner of DexCorp International fumbled for his glasses, finally finding them and returning them to his face. He rose, straightening his clothes as he went to one of the closets in his bedroom. Ben had a brief glimpse of dozens of lab coats all neatly hung in rows before Dexter returned with the small laser gun. As with Dexter, size was not an indicator of strength and Ben knew the small gun carried a charge almost equal to a cannon. Holding up the silvery little weapon, Dexter pointed as he spoke.

"Safety on. Safety off. Charge. Power setting. Any questions?"

"Busy later?"

"I will be when you get back, so don't be all night about it. Until then I'll be in my laboratory. Call if you need anything at all."

With a nod Ben reached not for the gun, but Dexter's wrist and he pulled the younger teen in close against him for a kiss that was as much a good-bye as a promise to return. Standing on his toes, Dexter tried his best to meet Ben halfway and in that instant managed to succeed in making Ben Tennyson fall in love with him all over again. For a long while Ben just stood and squeezed him tightly, resting his head atop Dexter's, feeling his warmth and listening to him breathe. He did not want to go, did not want to leave everything Dexter was and had come to represent to him over the past two weeks, but he had to. He had promised Gwen. The only consolation was that he knew what would be waiting for him to return. Finally he drew away to ask,

"Have I told you lately how much I love you?"

Dexter pressed the gun into his hand with a wry smile. "As a matter of fact, yes."

"I'll be back. I'll try not to get hurt."

"Yes, please. And Ben?"

"Yeah?"

"If _he_ is the cause of a moment's hurt . . ."

Ben grinned, loving when his boyfriend's ruthless possessiveness shone through. That Dexter should be so fierce and protective came as no surprise. He had seen this side of the redhead before against Vilgax. "He'll never know what hit him?" he suggested hopefully, relishing the image.

"Oh, no," Dexter corrected, deadly serious despite his word to his father not to act. "He'll know exactly who and what hit him, and why."


	24. On the Waterfront

**Chapter 24: On the Waterfront  
><strong>

He landed lightly in the parking lot of the eatery and immediately powered down the Omnitrix. He rubbed his shoulder, trying to work out the ache brought on by the quick flight. He would have liked something for the discomfort, but the stuff Dr. Cardon had him on tended to knock him out and he didn't have any pain killers immediately available. He glanced up at the sky. It wasn't raining quite as hard here in Bellwood as it had been in Downtown, but the weather seemed to be following him west and he knew things would get worse before they got better.

Gwen was waiting by the picnic tables, hugging her arms close to her chest, the hood of her windbreaker pulled over her head. He couldn't quite tell if she was chilled or distressed. Both, probably. She studied him as he approached, her eyes searching his face. Ben kept his expression carefully bland. Gwen would know he was hiding his feelings, but too bad. He was only here to help her and all he wanted to do was get this over with and get back to DexLabs as soon as possible.

"Any updates?" he asked by way of greeting. He did not want to engage in small talk or pleasantries or anything beyond the business at hand, something he wanted to establish from the get-go.

"No," Gwen replied, seeming to recognize his intent. She looked a little hurt by his cold attitude, but given the fallout of the last time they were together she did not call him on it. Ben suspected he wouldn't escape without at least one attempt to drag him into a conversation about what had happened, but it was a conversation he did not intend to hold – not today, not with Gwen, and not after having to leave Dexter after such an emotional evening.

"So what's the plan?"

"I'd like to check out his garage first and see if there's anything there that can help us. I might find something I can use to trace to him."

It was too far to walk from Mr. Smoothie to the garage, and so Ben flew them there as Big Chill, covering the miles across town in just a few minutes. They did not speak until he landed at the familiar hangout, and Gwen peered through the windows. The green Charger was not to be seen.

"I'll get the door," Ben said, phasing through the cinder block wall. He did a quick circuit of the garage and its odd array of equipment and tools. To his senses nothing was amiss, and so the Necrofriggian became tangible again and opened the side door for her, turning on the light and reverting back to human form.

It was the same well-known, relatively neat and clean workspace he was used to. Pushing back her hood, his cousin glanced around. He was struck at how pale Gwen looked in this light, and her face had a tired, pinched look to it that he understood completely.

Slowly Gwen moved through the garage bay, quickly abandoning the open space in favor of the desk against one wall. Atypically, Kevin had left some papers out – they were nothing significant, but their presence was telling. She leafed through them as Ben came and stood beside her, feeling a pang of . . . something as he picked up a photograph leaning against the can that served as a pencil holder.

He recognized the scene – he and Gwen and Kevin had gone camping with Grandpa Max in the Rust Bucket II. The picture showed the three teens sitting in a row, laughing hysterically. He couldn't remember what was so funny, but there was no doubt of their amusement. It hadn't been so long ago, but since this moment the whole world had changed . . .

"I remember that trip," Gwen abruptly said, looking over his shoulder.

"Me too," he said without any attempt to keep the bitterness out of his voice, dropping the photo onto the desk. It occurred to him that Kevin was remarkably difficult to contain, even for the likes of Albedo, and on some level this might be a ploy to bring him close again. Had Kevin maneuvered Gwen and him into a position where they would have to rescue him? What for? Some self-serving attempt to shift the blame onto Ben? He must know Ben wanted nothing to do with him. He barely remembered his parting words to the older teen, but he knew they had been quite final.

Gwen picked up the discarded picture, her eyes and the photograph glowing pink as she reached out with her Anodite senses.

"Lots of residue here," she muttered. "Kevin's been holding this and looking at it a lot."

_As well he might,_ echoed Dexter's voice in his mind, the accent conveying more scathing contempt than Ben could have managed on his own. Great, he was back to channeling the snarky side of the Boy Genius. Oh, well, he'd rather listen to Dexter than his own thoughts right now. He had no observations of his own to add, so he folded his arms and waited for her to continue.

Slowly Gwen turned, and Ben knew that she was seeking Kevin in the mana fields generated by all life across the earth. To an Anodine, energy was evident to their senses as light was evident to human eyes. As an Osmosian, Kevin stood out distinctly. His ability to absorb energy, something he did consciously and unconsciously, marked him from every other being on earth.

"He's south of here," she announced, her eyes fading back to their normal green.

"Can you get more specific?"

She slipped the photo into the pocket of her jacket. "Not until I'm closer."

He sighed. "Let's go."

**_()()()()()()()()()()_**

South, then west, then a little further south. They were flying over familiar territory by Bellwood's working riverfront. At night the area was largely deserted since most buildings here were warehouses. Every teen in Bellwood had hung out here at some point or another, racing cars or looking for a quiet spot to take a significant (or not so significant) other. Big Chill's eyes swept the landscape, imagining bringing Dexter here and having a hot date turn into a business administration lesson. That might be fun. Not as fun as a biology lesson, of course, but there was no denying the redhead's enthusiasm was infectious and adorable. Of course he'd freak out over the dirt, but that could be fun, too, in its way.

"Look," he hissed, fighting the wind to hover. It was quite dark, street lights being few and far between, but the green muscle car stood out against the bland terrain. It was parked outside a particularly dingy building that looked as if it remained standing purely out of habit.

"I might be able to get more readings off of it," Gwen said, though not with much confidence. Technology was far more difficult for her to read than living things. Ben swooped down, surveying the area before setting his cousin lightly on her feet. As Gwen looked at the car, Ben took in the setting.

The dull buildings formed a long, straight, and featureless canyon running all the way to the river. Even without the rain and wind it was a cold, uninviting place with very few signs of life. Weeds choked each other as they battled for room in the cracks along the roadway, and there was a smell that not even the rain could wash away. Seeing as how Albedo had few resources available to him, it was not surprising he'd make use of such a place. It was isolated, but not terribly so, all gray metal and concrete. In truth, the whole area was more lonely than anything else.

"Did Albedo . . . do anything?" he asked.

"What?"

"Did he do anything to make Kevin go after him? Steal something? Hurt someone?"

"Not that I know of," Gwen admitted. She studied the tall blue moth before her. "Do you think Kevin was trying to provoke him?"

"I wouldn't put it past him," muttered Big Chill, remembering Kevin's refusal to back down when asked and told and finally had to have 'no' beaten into him. "Albedo's pretty harmless now, especially without his knockoff Omnitrix. Most of what he gets up to is just mischief. I just wanted to keep tabs on him. I wasn't asking for trouble and I doubt he was, either."

"He _was_ acting strangely."

"That's no reason to harass him."

"No," she agreed slowly. "Are you worried for him?"

"Albedo? Yeah. A little. He disappeared during the Battle of Citiesville and suddenly pops up looking and acting weird . . . –er than usual. Maybe he needs help - and I don't mean Kevin's brand of it."

The idea that Kevin would go out of his way to cause trouble for Albedo was clearly disturbing to Gwen. "Do you really think he'd do something like that?"

"I wouldn't put anything past him at this point."

It was a fair statement, and though his cousin looked hurt she nonetheless nodded in quiet agreement.

"Well, let's find Kevin first and make sure he's safe and then we can sort this all out."

He promised himself that 'sorting it out' would include a good, swift smack upside Levin's head if it turned out this was just some sorry attempt to get attention. Fighting impatience, he asked a little peevishly, "Can you tell if he's close?"

She focused, her eyes filling with pink light for a few seconds. "Over there," she stated, pointing across the street.

"All right, let's get this -"

"Ben." A small hand on his arm stopped him. Gwen looked at him squarely. "Don't walk into this angry. I know you are and I don't blame you, but you aren't at your best when you're angry. We'll figure out what's going on, but don't let your emotions trip you up. It's happened before. I don't want it to happen now."

He knew what she meant. He wasn't very good at anger. Well, at least not using it to his advantage in a situation. That was Dexter's specialty. To Gwen he nodded, knowing that it would be too easy to see what he wanted to see, given his personal bias right now. Their mission was to locate Kevin, and the only reason he wanted to do that was to get back home to Dexter.

_Choose your way with reason, not passion, Benjamin, _said Dexter's voice_. Save the passion for me._

Ben smirked. The little brat. God, how he loved him.


	25. All He Wants

**Chapter 25: All He Wants  
><strong>

The warehouse was typical of the area – low, large, outdated, dirty – and it was hard to imagine that it had ever been new. Gwen had picked the locks with a quick manipulation of mana, and Ben eased the door open slowly. Both cousins winced as the neglected hinges squeaked in protest of being moved. They slipped into the foyer, dripping on the worn carpeting. One glance at the place told Ben that Dexter would collapse in upon himself if he ever found himself in a place so disreputable. Pushing back the hood of her windbreaker, Gwen looked doubtfully at the dark and dingy interior before pulling the photo from her pocket again. Calling upon her Anodite abilities, she reached out, matching the energy absorbed by the photo to the energy trail that had lead them there.

"That way," she said softly, pointing to a staircase off to the side. "The offices must be up there."

Annoyingly, the door made no noise when Ben closed it again. Trying not to drip on her, he asked, "Is anyone else here?"

"Hard to tell. I'm getting lots of readings."

"Rats, probably."

She snorted, injecting more meaning into his comment than he intended. "Mmm. Hold on." She laid her hand on his arm, her eyes glowing pink for a few seconds. "There are two of you here."

"You have no idea how weird that is to hear," he muttered. "Where is he?"

"Up there, too."

"How do you want to play this?"

"Albedo must know we're here."

"Yeah, well, I'm sure he wants to spring his trap so he can gloat, so let's not disappoint him."

"Maybe we should see if there's a back way. We could come at him from two sides."

He smirked. "Or I could turn into Big Chill again and phase through the floor."

"Or that. Good idea. You circle around, I'll take the stairs."

Stepping away, he dialed the Omnitrix and slammed the control down. "Big – _Nanomech_."

Gwen rolled her eyes at the sight of the tiny mechanical being hovering in the air before her. He was a far cry from the expected Necrofriggian.

"Oh, man!" squeaked Nanomech in his piercing voice. "Stupid watch. Okay, new plan. I'll fly up and circle behind and then . . ."

She shook her head at his typically loose plan. Really, he didn't like to get tied into any one course of action. Options were there to be exercised and improvising was his specialty. Aloud Gwen ceded, "We'll take it from there. All right. Let's go."

Small though he might be, Nanomech was fast. He kept pace with Gwen as she crept silently up the stairs and as soon as they reached the second story, he zoomed off into the shadows. The second story consisted of a hall running the width of the warehouse with a dozen or so doors leading off of it. A few dirty skylights let light filter in and the place smelled musty and damp. Promising himself a good soak in Dexter's shower (preferably with Dexter), Ben set out to locate Kevin. He fit under the doors with ease, checking two grubby offices, a closet, and a bathroom before a barely-audible whisper from Gwen recalled him. He joined her at the far end of the hall where she stood outside a door against the front of the building.

"Right here," he said, knowing she wouldn't see him through the gloom.

"They're in here," she breathed.

Knowing he'd give them away completely, Ben nonetheless powered down the Omnitrix. The flash of energy briefly illuminated the hall and Gwen's surprised face.

"So much for sneaking around!" she quietly snapped.

"He knows we're here," Ben reminded her with a shrug. "Let's find out what he's up to – if anything."

Reluctantly she nodded, raising her hands defensively as he gripped the doorknob. He opened the door with a quick yank –

"Ben, watch out!"

Kevin's shouted warning had the opposite of the intended effect. Instead of dodging the oncoming figure, Ben froze, a stab of fear coursing through him at the sound of his one-time friend. In that instant, something large and heavy slammed into him, knocking him back against the doorway and into Gwen. He fell on his rump, smacking his head against the door jam as he dropped. A shout of pain escaped him as he hit the floor and caught himself with his right arm.

"Stay away from me!" hissed his own voice as Albedo rushed past them, giving Ben another violent shove.

Ben shook his head to clear it, able to hear pounding footsteps as Albedo fled the scene. That was extremely atypical of the young Galvan, especially with Ben at a disadvantage, and he found himself more concerned with Albedo's response than with Kevin's safety. Gwen was on her feet, her hands bright pink with mana as she prepared to go after Ben's twin.

"Gwen, no!" he called, raising his voice to get her attention. She gaped at him, astonished.

"First you give us away, now you're letting him escape?" she demanded.

He cradled his arm. Dammit, it was his shoulder again. Cardon was going to strangle him. "When has he ever run away from us before?" he replied, struggling to stand.

That gave her pause, distracting her enough that the power she was gathering faded.

"Is he still close?"

She focused. "He's in the warehouse, heading toward the back."

"I'll be back."

"Ben, wait!" barked Kevin.

The words stirred all-too-vivid memories. He paused and finally looked at where Kevin Levin lay trussed up on the floor, a neural suppressor pushed low over his brow. Osmosians were notoriously difficult to contain; Albedo hadn't taken any chances with him absorbing any materials to alter his being. The young man stared at him with desperate intensity, knowing anything he said would be dismissed.

"Don't go after him! He's crazy, out of control!"

Returning the stare steadily, Ben coldly asked, "Where have I heard that before?" He turned to Gwen. "I'll be back."

**_()()()()()()()()()()_**

At the bottom of the stairs he had to stop before he blacked out. Panting heavily, feeling faint and nauseous, Ben gripped the hand rail and doubled over as his body and mind reacted to pain and being in such close proximity to Kevin again. Knowing there was nothing else for it, he let himself fall apart for a few quick moments. He had learned long ago that giving in a little let him recover faster. He closed his eyes, taking a few deep breaths, and let himself be amazed that he had managed to face Kevin so squarely and with such a steady voice. He was paying for that at this moment and would pay a higher fee later, but that was fine so long as he could function right now.

_Later,_ he told himself, straightening. _Lose it later, Benji._

_I volunteer to help you find it again_, whispered Dexter, all sympathy and understanding.

Taking a last deep breath, Ben managed a wry smile at the imagined voice in his head. Feeling a little more up to the task, he pushed through the double doors leading into the warehouse. He'd been in plenty such places in the past, especially when the HighBreed had invaded, that he barely noticed the details. Wide shelves, boxes and pallets of items swathed in shrink wrap. Dust, rats, and the sound of rain. He didn't care in the least about the things he passed as he hurried through the cold building, but he was worried, genuinely worried, about Albedo. He had little use and less love for the alien that was constantly scheming to get the Omnitrix, but he certainly didn't want him to come to harm. For all Ben's reluctant twin being a conniving and overly smart (was he as smart as Dexter? Certainly not as clever!) little slime, he was no coward. Unless this was part of some plan (and he doubted it), something was far off base with Albedo.

Pressing his right arm tight to his side, he ran through the echoing room. With the rain beating on the roof and ducts it was hard to make out any sounds, but the din also covered the sound of his own progress. Albedo was running away. He wanted out. Why? He'd done a fine job of subduing Kevin, but what had brought him here? Or had he been driven here?

He came to a stop at a loading dock. All the doors were securely locked, telling him Albedo was still in the building. There were too many places to hide for him to track down the Galvan, and he honestly did not want to be hunting his double. If Albedo was frightened or hurt, it just wouldn't be fair.

"Albedo?" he called, standing still. The muffled sound of rain and the pain in his arm and the echo of Kevin's voice had reawakened the not-so-distant memory of being attacked. He remembered the all-consuming fear, and in turn he did not want to inflict that on anyone, even Albedo. Slowly he moved about the landing dock, searching the shadows.

"It's me. Ben. Albedo, I'm not here to fight you."

There was no reply. He stopped moving, presenting himself as a target if Albedo so wished.

"I don't know what you want, but I think you need help. Am I right?"

He wished he had Gwen's ability to detect life forms. Somehow, though, he knew Albedo was listening.

"We only came here to get Kevin. We got reports that you weren't well. Do you need help? Will you let me help you?"

From the shadows behind him, his own voice answered. "You've already done enough. Leave me alone."

Ben turned, looking into the darkness. "Did Kevin pick a fight with you?"

Silence.

"I haven't done anything, Albedo."

"Haven't you?" whispered the voice with scathing derision. He could hear his double moving about. "You exist. You have the Omnitrix. You gave me this hideous form. Your form. Ben Tennyson's form. And all _he_ wants is you."

He?

"What do you mean?" he asked, taking a step toward Albedo. "Who wants me? Vilgax?"

_. . . Kevin?_ He felt a pang of nausea at the very idea.

"I look like you. But I'm not you. He made that my fault. Everything he did . . . _you_ did."

"I don't understand what you mean. Who did . . . whatever they did to you?" he finished lamely, confounded. He moved toward the sound of the voice, determined to get to the bottom of this.

"You," breathed Albedo. Ben caught sight of the Galvan, shadows falling dark and heavy across his face. "You'll pay for this, Ben Tennyson."

"Pay? For what? Albe -"

Suddenly his double stepped closer, his bleached white hair starkly visible. There was little light to see by, but Ben caught a fleeting glimpse of distorted flesh, of deep scars and old wounds written on Albedo's face . . . on his own face. He gasped and stared, horrified that anyone, even his enemy, had been so disfigured. It was just a glance, because the Galvan took cover in the darkness again, but it was enough to rattle him to the core.

"Albedo, who did this? Let me help you, please!"

"Like you've helped me in the past?" mocked the other teen. "Mark my words: you'll pay for this, and so will he. Every last moment of pain will be repaid. He wants you. I want revenge. I'll get what I want before he does."

Maybe Kevin was right. Albedo sounded plenty crazy. "You're hurt. You're not well. Come with me. I'll get you help."

"How? You'll hand me over to the Plumbers? That idiot Levin has been hounding my every move since I came here. I'll never be at their mercy again. I'll never be at anyone's mercy again. Especially not yours."

He lunged out of the shadows, a heavy pipe in his hands swinging at Ben's head. Ben grunted as the weapon came crashing down on his raised arms. The pain was terrific, but Albedo wasn't looking to do him in, just buy himself time to escape. Ben backed off, grimacing. He could go after him, but Albedo wouldn't see anything he did as trying to help and he'd already told him he wasn't here to fight. He had come to rescue Kevin, and that task was done.

He heard the squeak of a metal door being forced open and then the sound of rain as Albedo escaped into the night. Ben stared into the darkness, suddenly cold and lonely and bereft as he tried to fathom what had just happened. Who had done this? Why? Why mutilate a young man just for not being . . . Ben?

Feeling sick in every way, wishing he hadn't come here, wishing he was back home, Ben withdrew, heading back to the entrance and the inevitable confrontation that awaited him.


	26. Pain and Memories

**Chapter 26: Pain and Memories  
><strong>

He was feeling almost lightheaded as he headed back the way he'd come. He knew it was a combination of pain, the shock of Albedo's condition, and the fact that Kevin would be there at the entrance with Gwen. Each step grew increasingly difficult, and dread weighed him down. He did not want to do this. Not now. Not ever, really.

But he needed to.

Albedo hadn't mutilated himself. If Kevin knew anything of the situation, Ben needed to know, too. The problem was, that involved interacting with the slime who two weeks ago tried to rape him.

There was no way he was going to be able to fly back to DexLabs. Not even Chromastone, the slowest of the three flying aliens available in the Omnitrix, would be able to deal with the level of pain his shoulder was giving him. He considered his options. There was no way in hell he was getting into Kevin's car even if the offer was made. He could call his parents, but they thought he was in Downtown and it would be inevitable that his mother would kick up a royal fuss over him being injured. Gwen's parents would just as soon swallow paint thinner than let him drip on their car's leather interior.

In a defensive motion and to ease the pressure on his shoulder, he shoved his hands into the pockets of his jacket. As he did so his hand brushed the small gun Dexter had pressed on him.

_What did I tell you, Benjamin?_

Thanking the stars once again that his boyfriend was not only filthy rich but highly resourceful and possessed of a small fleet of vehicles, Ben pulled out his phone and hit the first number on speed dial.

_"Are you all right?" _were the first, anxious words that reached his ear. Anyone who might have overheard such a greeting would have thought Dexter was snapping at him, but Ben heard only loving concern. Knowing what he had waiting for him was like balm on a wound, and a sigh of relief escaped him at the sound of that accent.

"Sorta. I can't fly. Can you pick me up?"

_"Immediately. Computress has pinpointed your location. A vehicle will be there within half an hour."_

"Thanks."

_"No. Thank you for calling. Will you be well until then? Are you safe?"_

In other words, was Kevin nearby?

"Gwen's here with me. I'll be okay."

He was just outside the double doors in the entrance. He could hear Gwen talking. His cousin sounded impatient, but that was pretty common.

"I'll see you in a little while," he promised Dexter.

_"Yes, you will,"_ stated the Boy Genius, his stern tone bringing a small smile to Ben's lips. Imagining the fierce look Dexter surely must be wearing now as he rallied his forces, Ben found the strength to push the swinging door open as he returned to the foyer of the warehouse.

Kevin was leaning against the wall, eyes locked on the floor as he kept his gaze averted from Ben. There was a mark on his forehead from the neural suppressor, but he seemed unharmed otherwise. Gwen placed herself between the two young men, immediately asking,

"Did you find Albedo? Where is he?"

"Yeah, I found him. I let him go," Ben replied.

Kevin let out a growl and shook his head. "Bad move."

Ben ignored him completely. "Something or someone attacked him and he's holding me responsible."

"Who? Why?"

"That's what I'd like to know," he stated. "But stopping him wouldn't have helped the situation."

"You shouldn't have let him go."

As if he was in any shape to stop him. "He hasn't done anything, Gwen."

Kevin made a sound of annoyance. Gwen sighed as her cousin overlooked the obvious.

"Ben, we're here because he captured Kevin."

"And he did that because . . . why? Maybe because Kevin just wouldn't leave him alone."

The words came out in sharp, clipped bites. Instantly the Osmosian's temper flared.

"I was following him because he was acting weird!" defended Kevin hotly.

"And he also happens to be an exact copy of me. Convenient," he hissed.

"No! That's not -"

"Plumbers are not vigilantes. Acting weird is not against the law. Albedo was just looking for a place to hide and recover. He needs help, not to be harassed!"

Gwen motioned for silence, trying to keep them from going for one another's throat. Still not bothering to look at Kevin, Ben stared at Gwen, letting her calm influence his own emotions. He was trembling, his heart racing, and knew he had to slow his breathing or he'd hyperventilate. He'd thought he could handle being in close proximity to Kevin again. He was wrong.

"Kevin, had Albedo actually committed a crime or done anything threatening before you went looking for him?" she asked.

"If by threatening you mean scaring a lot of people, yeah," was the sullen reply.

"No, I don't," Gwen said. "Did he say what happened when he caught you?"

"Not really. He kept going on about getting back at . . . at Ben." The name of his victim didn't come easily to his lips, and his voice grew faint as he pronounced the diminutive. He spoke as if Ben wasn't standing ten feet away, which suited Ben just fine. "There was someone else. He didn't mention names. He just kept saying _He _wanted Ben."

A frown creased Gwen's forehead. "Albedo wants Ben?"

"No. Someone else. Someone . . . worse. The person who did that to Albedo. He's gunning for Ben."

"Wh_y_?"

Wrapping his arms tightly around his middle, Ben answered. "Albedo said whoever hurt him made it his fault that he's not me."

"It's obvious he's not you."

"I think he was grabbed on looks first, personality second."

Kevin stared at the floor. "Whoever had him messed him up pretty bad. Not just his face. The rest of him, too. His mind and his . . . body."

"What do you mean?"

Ashamed, he hung his head further, looking away from his one-time friends. "Gonna make me say it, Gwen?"

Closing his eyes, Ben looked away in revulsion and disgust, turning his back on Kevin. Sudden pressure on his chest made breathing difficult and he fought to keep his balance as a wave of dizziness swept over him. It felt as if the heat of his own body was draining out of him. He couldn't say if his reaction was for himself and the recollection of what had almost happened to him or for Albedo and what had happened to him. Albedo, his unwilling twin, trapped in a copy of his eighteen-year-old body. Did the Galavan even have an idea of how to deal with growing up and hormones and the natural drives of a normal, healthy, human male? Ben was lucky. He had Dexter as much for support as for release. Albedo had . . . nothing. And now, after being seized and tortured and . . . oh, god, had he been raped? Taken from that perspective, their conversation made so much sense. Albedo. He had started with nothing and now he had even less . . .

With effort he swallowed, looking up when Gwen touched his arm. In the dim light her eyes were filled with deep concern. "You should sit down. You're white as a sheet."

He stared at her, hearing what she said but understanding nothing. A sudden rush of memories drowned out the moment as the past tried to make sense of the present.

_"He wants you. I want revenge. I'll get what I want before he does."_

His thoughts were a chaotic blur and his emotions were no better. Who . . . ?

_"That's when I realized that you were like air - I couldn't live without you."_

The edges of his vision were murky. He must be passing out. He didn't have time for that. He made himself take a few deep breaths, trying to keep his shaky grip on consciousness.

_"You have the habit of taking too much responsibility for events, Ben. People make their own choices."  
><em>

Yes. He was finally accepting that. But he was missing something here. Something important. What was it?

_"I think I know what I want better than you do . . ."_

He tried to latch hold of Dexter's voice, but there were too many memories to single out just one. If he hadn't lived through it all already, he would have been lost.

_"Payback time, Benji."_

He shuddered, remembering Kevin was close by. What was the connection? He let his thoughts flow, flashes of images and scenes passing through his head, drawing him along, following a thread.

_"If it's . . . the last thing I do, Tennyson . . . I will destroy what you love . . . just because you love him."_

Red eyes, burning like coal and full of hatred.

_"He wants you."_

Red eyes. A twisted smile. Malice. Cruelty. Hunger.

"_It__'__s __my __Fusion! __He__'__s __after __you __and __the __Omnitrix!__"_

The familiar voice changed, becoming harsh even as it retained that Soviet Bloc accent.

_"Does he know what it's like to kiss you?"_

And suddenly the answer struck him with horrifying clarity. Oh, god . . .

"Ben!"

Two voices cried out together as he dropped. A bark of pain escaped him as Gwen gripped his right arm, jostling his shoulder. He fell to his knees, the impact and agony working together to bring his thoughts into some semblance of order. Coming back to reality, he dragged air into his lungs, laboring to regain control of both body and mind. Fresh pain radiating from his shoulder yanked another small cry from him as he bent over. This was worse than when he'd fled the Sector T tree house. Much worse. He'd done some serious damage to his shoulder. He shouldn't have come back. He shouldn't have come . . .

"Hold on," breathed Gwen anxiously. "Don't move. Stay right there!"

"You're hurt!"

Strong and gentle hands were easing him back against the wall as carefully as if he was made of glass. Ben opened his eyes, blinking to clear his vision, and recoiled when he realized it was Kevin who braced him.

"Get off of me!" hissed Ben, struggling to escape his grasp.

Kevin looked at him squarely for the first time, and the anguished concern Ben saw in his dark eyes was genuine. Sternly he said, "I'm trying to help. I won't hurt you."

"Don't touch me!" he spat, wondering why Gwen wasn't intervening. Was she letting this happen? He tried to back up but with his back to the wall there was nowhere for him to go. "I don't want your help!"

"Well, you need it," argued Levin, keeping Ben from toppling over.

"What, just like I wanted you to attack me?"

Kevin winced, looking as if Ben had slapped him. "I - will you just listen for a minute?" he begged. "Please?"

"To you? No!"

"Well, fine! I'll say it anyway!" snapped the Osmosian, matching Ben's tone and level of tension. "I'm sorry for what I did, Ben. I am so goddamned sorry for trying to push you into telling me who you were seeing and trying to force myself on you and sorry that I ever, ever hurt you. I have no excuse other than that I'm a selfish bastard. I was scared and I felt jealous and threatened by someone I don't even know and I know you don't care and don't want to hear this now, but I'll never have another chance. I. Am. Sorry. I'm sorry and I hate myself for what I did you and your cousin. You're my best friend and my brother. I would do anything to make it up to you if I could."

His hands were trembling as he held Ben. There was no doubt in Tennyson's mind that Kevin's words and regret were perfectly sincere. He also didn't give a damn how sorry Kevin was. The damage was done. He was not playing this game. There was a rush of footsteps as Gwen came pounding down the stairs, a wet towel in her hands. She skidded to a halt at the sight of Kevin fighting to keep Ben from falling over.

Wrongly sensing a chance at redemption, Kevin softly pleaded, "Tell me, Ben. What can I do?"

And then from behind Kevin came a savage, heavily accented voice. "You can unhand him this instant, Mr. Levin."


	27. Cavalry Charge

**Chapter 27: Cavalry Charge  
><strong>

Bubbles had fallen asleep while reading on the couch in the library, the manga she had been reading set beside her on the table and a light blanket thrown over her. Dexter paused and smiled fondly at her as he looked for the Professor. She was so pretty and so sweet and even though he knew she wrote the most ridiculous stories about him and Ben, he was so glad he could call her his sister.

A rustle of paper as a page was turned told him he'd found the person he'd been looking for. The Professor sat in one of the wing-back chairs by the fireplace, reading and relaxing after a long day of running a gigantic corporation, advancing the science of genetics, helping to fight a war, and raising four active teenagers. Dexter felt a twinge of guilt that he was about to inject some tension into his father's evening, but he needed to talk and the Professor was the only one who could advise him right now.

"Dad?"

The word brought a smile to Utonium's face. Dexter was the only one of his children who called him that, and it never ceased to please him. Lowering the book he was reading, he looked at Dexter keenly. Able to hide nothing from this man, Dexter knew his father noted every hint of anxiety that he was trying so hard to conceal.

"Is everything okay?" asked Utonium softly. "Where's Ben? Asleep?"

"No," he said with difficulty.

Patiently he waited for Dexter to speak. Settling into the chair opposite him, Dexter clasped his hands, keeping his voice hushed so as not to disturb Bubbles.

"Ben . . . we were in my room before and he – he had a bit of a meltdown."

"In a good way?"

"Yeah, I suppose so. I'm really glad you told me to expect something like that. It took a lot out of him, but . . ."

"Sometimes a good cry is the best thing for you," was the Professor's very reasonable assessment.

Dexter nodded his agreement. "Ye-ah, well, things were advancing quite nicely from the hurt to the comfort stage when Gwen Tennyson called."

Utonium's gray eyes grew wide with surprise, but instead of speaking he let his son continue in his own time.

"She needed help. Albedo had been seen in Bellwood, and reports stated that he was acting erratically. Kevin Levin had gone in search of him and had vanished, presumably caught by Albedo. Ben wasn't comfortable with Gwen pursuing him on her own. He flew off to Bellwood a while ago."

The Professor blinked. "He flew?"

Dexter winced. "Is that bad?"

"Which alien?"

"Jetray?"

Utonium sighed. "His shoulder can't support that sort of strain right now, Dexter. He might be feeling better, but he's not."

"He's not really feeling better, either," he admitted softly. "But he promised Gwen and he was afraid for her safety."

"You should have told me."

"Dad, I couldn't, _wouldn't _stop him."

"Of course not, Dexter, but need I remind you that you have seventeen SUVs, two helicopters, nine aeroships, four gunships, three ultra-super-powered sisters, and a small militia with police powers at your beck and call here in Downtown, not to mention legions of KND and ECF troops in and out of here 24x7?"

Squirming uncomfortably as this list was rattled off, Dexter gave him his best hangdog look. Utonium sighed again and shook his head.

"Apparently I do. Next time you want to do something rash, just call me or Mr. Green, please. We certainly can't stop Ben from being Ben, but we just might be able to help."

"I will. He promised to call if he needs anything," Dexter volunteered a little desperately.

"Well, let's hope Ben has the good sense to keep his word."

Pulling off his glasses, Dexter rubbed his aching head and wondered, "Why am I so stooopid where Ben is concerned?"

"Hormones. You've got it bad."

Dexter grumbled in agreement, sinking down in his chair. Utonium smiled in sympathy.

"Waiting is the hardest part," said this father of three superheroes. "You get used to it, but it never gets any easier."

Squinting in an attempt to see six feet away, Dexter quietly admitted, "I'm afraid for him, Dad."

"In what sense?"

"The possibility of being in close proximity to Kevin. What if he lays a hand on Ben or tries to talk to him? Ben's not ready for anything like that."

"We just have to hope Ben slugs him with his left hand, not his right."

"Repeatedly. I -"

He jumped slightly when his cell phone started playing the opening track to the _Sumo Slammers _cartoon. Hastily he dug the phone out of the pocket of his lab coat, trying not to rouse Bubbles. Computress automatically projected a map of Ben's location in Bellwood in the air between father and son. He couldn't completely contain his anxiety as he demanded, "Are you all right?"

_"Sorta. I can't fly. Can you pick me up?"_

Sorta? Dexter frowned, knowing Ben was badly hurt if he admitted he couldn't fly. His voice was strained, but the fact that he was asking for a ride told Dexter that the mission was successfully completed and Kevin Levin had been found.

"Immediately," he snapped, glancing at the glowing lines of the map of Bellwood's waterfront. "Computress has pinpointed your location. A vehicle will be there within half an hour."

_"Thanks."_

"No. Thank you for calling," Dexter replied, softening his tone. Almost hesitantly he asked, "Will you be well until then? Are you safe?"

Is Kevin there?

Ben knew him well enough to guess what he was really asking. _"Gwen's here with me. I'll be okay. I'll see you in a little while."_

"Yes, you will."

Anger was simmering in him as the call ended. Kevin was to blame. First he had hurt Ben, and now by going off on his own he had put Ben in a position to be hurt all over again. Somehow he suspected that Levin would try his best to reason with his victim, which was the last thing Ben was equipped to handle right now. The Professor was already in contact with DexLabs Security, ordering three vehicles and half a dozen officers to be ready in five minutes. Dexter waited for him to end his quick communication with Sgt. Lee before stating with absolute surety,

"He's hurt. Badly."

Utonium rose, motioning his son to join him as he headed for the door. "Agreed, but at least he kept his word."

Dexter's gloved hand closed on Utonium's lab coat, stopping him. Looking up at his father, he quietly begged, "Dad . . ."

The Professor smiled gently, smoothing Dexter's unruly hair. "Of course you can go. Why do you think I ordered three vehicles?"

"But . . . the court orders . . ."

He was referring to the reams of paperwork from Washington, DC, that established him as Utonium's ward. For his own safety Dexter's movements were very strictly limited and he was allowed to leave only under certain conditions and with endless restrictions attached.

"You're allowed to leave for what I deem is an emergency. I think this situation qualifies."

"Thank you," he managed to whisper, his throat suddenly tight with emotion.

"Two conditions, young man. One, you listen to Sgt. Morton and obey without question."

That was a standing order, Morton being Dexter's favorite and most trusted bodyguard and one of the few adults on the planet that Dexter would actually listen to without debate. He nodded. "Of course."

"Two, Ben goes straight to Medical and stays there until Dr. Cardon releases him. Agreed?"

"Yes," he replied, ready to promise prodigies. He knew Cardon would be furious that Ben was injured again and would probably confine him to the medical facility for as long as possible, but it was worth it if he could go to Ben now, when Ben needed him.

"Dad?"

Overcome with love for this most excellent of men, Dexter gave in to the impulse to wrap him in a tight hug, trying once again to show him how much he appreciated his understanding. With a smile the Professor crushed him tight in return, leaning over to kiss him atop his head before releasing him.

"Come on, Boy Genius. Chip's waiting."

_**()()()()()()()()()()**_

"You okay, sir?"

"I'm extremely anxious right now, Sergeant," Dexter said.

Anyone who didn't know would him well have thought the statement was a lie, given how calmly and evenly he spoke and how composed he was in the back seat of the SUV. With his hands folded on his lap, he sat very quietly, almost serenely, and his very stillness was telling to anyone familiar with his moods and temper.

Charles Morton wasn't fooled for a moment, having worked for the Dexter and DexLabs long enough to recognize the signs of stress in his boss as he drove him to Bellwood. He was close enough to Dexter and they shared a strong bond of trust that Morton had no problem with digging for a little more information. Dexter leaving him an opening was an oblique invitation to talk, and Morton knew the boy valued not only his wisdom and experience, but also the advice he was able to dole out on occasion. For all his intelligence Dexter was very sheltered and had limited contact with the world beyond DexLabs, and so he often turned to the few adults in his life to get a better grasp of life lessons beyond his ken.

"Your dad said Tennyson's hurt."

"He is and he has been. In a number of ways."

He fell silent, and Morton just waited him out, knowing perfectly well that Dexter had too much on his mind to keep quiet for long.

"Sergeant?"

"Yes, sir?"

"May I ask you a personal question?"

Eyes on the road, Morton smiled faintly. "Fire away, sir."

"How do you survive betrayal?"

"Are you asking from personal experience?" he replied, able to dance around the issue with the best of them.

"I'm not. I ask from a philosophical point of view."

"Well, philosophically speaking, I can only offer a personal viewpoint. You survive it by having better friends than the person that betrayed you. You get over it in stages. You might forgive someday, but you never forget and you can never quite go back to the way things were."

He glanced back. Dexter looked extremely thoughtful as he turned these statements over in his mind.

"Would you want to? Forgive, I mean."

His employer, he knew, could carry a grudge like few other people. "Not really, but sometimes you have to compromise. It's kind of hard to storm off when you're stuck aboard a submarine and having to deal with superior officers and all that stuff."

"Good point, Mr. Morton."

"Thank you. And sir?"

"Yes?"

"Since we're being philosophical, don't ever doubt for a moment that you're a very good friend and more than up to the task."

That was exactly the assurance he needed to hear, and it was with renewed confidence that Dexter said, "Thank you, Sergeant."

"We're almost there," Morton said a few minutes later, following the lead vehicle off the highway and down an exit ramp. "Now would be a good time to start getting your Irish up, sir."

Dexter let out a quiet little snort. "I'm well ahead of you, Sergeant."

Morton smiled in silent approval, glad that his little spitfire of a boss was geared for combat. Tennyson was lucky to have him and Levin didn't stand a chance.

**_()()()()()()()()()()_**

"This is it, sir."

Dexter frowned at the ratty-looking warehouse. He was certain there wasn't a clean surface in the whole building and he saw some serious decontamination in his future. It wouldn't have been so bad, but he knew there was no way Cardon would let Ben out of Medical and he was going to have to scrub his own back.

"How do they find these places? Is there something like a bad guy registry of revolting places to hang out?" asked Dexter, freeing himself from his seat belt to gaze through the tinted windows.

"I wouldn't be surprised," Morton answered. He turned in his seat. "Fisher and Knox will do a quick scout of the area, sir, and then you can get out."

He had no choice in the matter, and so he voiced no complaint at being made to wait. For something to do, he had Computress pinpoint Ben's exact location. Thermal scans of the building showed three humans, one upstairs and two downstairs. Ben was one of the people downstairs, and the person with him was too big to be Gwen and far, far too close for Dexter's comfort.

"All clear, sir. Are you armed?"

"No. I gave my Null-Void to Commander Tennyson."

The blond frowned, and a moment later Dexter was handed the small pistol from Morton's boot. He gladly slipped it into the pocket of his lab coat.

"Let me out of here _now_, Sergeant," he growled, and Morton hastened to open the SUV's door. Dexter ignored the pouring rain as he approached the warehouse. Two DexLabs security officers, Fisher and Knox, stood beneath the overhang above the front door, lighting the area with their flashlights.

"It's unlocked, sir," said Knox.

Dexter lifted his hand, then hesitated slightly. Fisher, well aware of his dirt and germ phobias, leaned over and opened the door wide enough for him to slip through. Knowing perfectly well that Morton would be half a step behind him at all times, he walked into the foyer. Normally he would have been glad to be back indoors, but within seconds this place made him long for the rain and unfiltered air. Immediately he was aware of decades of dirt and dust and cobwebs and the smell of mold, but none of that mattered as he spotted Ben.

His boyfriend was leaning against the wall, straining to avoid Kevin as the Osmosian held him upright. Ben's face was deathly pale, though the look in his eyes spoke of a fury that Dexter was glad to see as Kevin desperately made the case for his conduct.

". . . felt jealous and threatened by someone I don't even know and I know you don't care and don't want to hear this now, but I'll never have another chance. I. Am. Sorry. I'm sorry and I hate myself for what I did you and your cousin. You're my best friend and my brother. I would do anything to make it up to you if I could."

His voice was soft, his words pleading, his regret sincere, and his timing could not be worse. Dexter felt anger seething to the surface. That Kevin should exploit Ben's injury and weakness by choosing _now_ to try to wring forgiveness out of his victim was sickening. How dare he. How dare he touch Ben. How dare he call him friend and brother. Kevin had been neither of these things to Ben. He had been monstrous.

Footsteps came pounding down the stairs as Gwen Tennyson returned to her companions, a towel in her hands that was clearly meant for her cousin. She skidded to a halt at the sight of Ben leaning against the wall with Kevin supporting him, and her jaw fell open. Her astonishment was genuine, and she was so intent on her cousin and one-time boyfriend that she did not see Dexter. Ben cast her a desperate look as Kevin begged, "Tell me, Ben. What can I do?"

There was no holding his tongue after such a question. Through gritted teeth he heard himself hiss, "You can unhand him this instant, Mr. Levin."


	28. Standoff

**Chapter 28: Standoff**

Gwen and Kevin both gasped, whirling to face the source of this interruption. They both actually stepped back at the sight of the owner of DexCorp International appearing so suddenly in their midst. Ben let out a little sigh and smiled faintly in relief, leaning his head back as he got an unobstructed view of his boyfriend come to save him. There were times when it was definitely very nice to be on the business end of a search and rescue mission, and this was one such time. Dexter was a slight but powerful presence, the clean white lab coat he always wore looking so bright in comparison to the dingy setting. His unexpected arrival had the desired effect, too – Kevin had released his hold on Ben.

"Step away from Ben," commanded Dexter. His voice was pitched low enough to make his audience pay attention if they wanted to hear him, and that Eastern European accent gave his childish voice an odd sort of authority. He stared at Kevin imperiously, and Ben could practically see the fury radiating off him.

For a moment Kevin gaped, and then he sputtered, "Who the hell do you think you are?"

Cool and arrogant, knowing perfectly well that Kevin must recognize him by sight at least, Dexter lifted his chin as he deigned to answer the pointless question. "I'm the one Ben trusts, and I'm the one he asked to come help him."

He looked at Ben, taking in his exhaustion and distress, and then at Kevin. Ben had seen that narrow-eyed sneer before. It was designed to let a person know exactly how low on food chain they stood with the Boy Genius. In this case, Kevin didn't even rate as an amino acid. The Osmosian's hands were clenched in tight fists as he stared with confusion and disbelief at the boy so brazenly challenging him. He stood directly in Dexter's way, however, which Ben knew was completely unacceptable. Dexter would allow nothing to come between them.

Kevin stared in disbelief, plainly at a loss how this shrimp of a kid in his glasses and gloves could be of any help to anyone. Not surprisingly, his dirty look was far less effective than Dexter's practiced scorn.

"You called _him?" _he demanded, glancing down at Ben.

"Half an hour ago," confirmed Ben, giving Dexter a fond look.

"Why?"

"I need a ride," Ben answered slowly, letting Kevin take that however he liked.

"I could -" He stopped as the words hit home, shutting him out without any hope of regaining Ben's trust. Caught off guard between two people he had wronged in thought and word and deed, his clumsy apology rejected, Kevin Levin did what was instinctive for him: he got defensive.

"Step away. Now," Dexter ordered sternly, assuming full command of the situation. Even with Morton a few steps behind him, he kept his distance. Not only was Kevin a dangerous and skilled fighter, but Ben knew Dexter hated being near strangers, much less being touched by anyone he didn't trust. He swore to himself he'd break every bone in Kevin's body before he let him lay a finger on Dexter.

"Who do you think you are to tell me what to do?" demanded Kevin savagely.

"You know perfectly well who I am, Mr. Levin." Dexter smiled slightly, but there was no warmth or humor in his expression. "I'm the one who will be taking Benjamin home."

Ben resisted the urge to gape, squeak, or gawk at this declaration. Dexter had as good as shouted out they were lovers with that line. Then again, it was the simple truth. Maybe Dexter was just gauging how much rope Kevin needed to hang himself.

"Do you have any idea of what you're dealing with, punk?" snapped Levin.

Gwen made a little sound of alarm, but Ben Tennyson was hard-pressed not to smile. If two people were destined never to get along, it was these two. Dexter was so used to authority and Kevin had spent most of his life flaunting it. It was too much to ask them to breathe the same air. Kevin did not respond well to being told what to do, especially when he was being spoken down to. The Osmosian's hackles had been on the rise from the start – now he was positively seething.

"Yes. Far better than you do," the redhead shot right back, undaunted. "Now step aside."

Rather than obey, Kevin shifted a step closer to the petite redhead. Pain shot through Ben as he tensed, his hand poised over the Omnitrix. He didn't care how much it hurt – one step closer and Levin was in for a pounding a la Humungousaur.

"Ben, don't," ordered Dexter, gesturing his way. "You've been hurt enough on his account."

Ben knew his boyfriend well enough to know that his words were very deliberate and aimed right at Kevin. Sgt. Morton and three more of the DexLabs security officers chose that moment to make their presence not just known, but felt. They spread out to protect their employer and filled the foyer of the warehouse with men and guns. Armed to the teeth, dressed in body armor, they all had their weapons drawn and seemed eager for an excuse to use them.

"You brought a SWAT team," observed Kevin in a derisive tone.

"No," Dexter corrected. "They brought me."

"Kevin, just move," grumbled Ben sharply, fed up with his stubborn obnoxiousness. He wanted to leave, not have a showdown, and if he'd had the strength he would have loved nothing more than to kick Kevin in the shins to get him out of the way.

Levin glanced back at Ben and the hard glare the younger man wore. Unable to fight a two-fronted war, he rolled his eyes and stomped off to the side with ill grace, standing close by Gwen to watch. Ignoring Kevin's existence, Dexter moved instantly to Ben's side, laying his hand on his shoulder and leaning in close. Judging by Dexter's barely-perceptible distress, he didn't look too good. Well, he felt pretty awful, so his appearance matched his mood.

"Are you able to walk?"

The simple question spoke volumes. A realm of anxiety and love and understanding was conveyed in five little words and a gentle touch. It took everything Ben had not to hold Dexter's hand or give him a soppy look in an attempt to calm him.

"Not far," he confessed, staring into Dexter's face. So much was written there for anyone who knew how to read him. Anyone who ever said a bad thing about this kid was an idiot. As far as Ben was concerned, he was the best thing that had ever happened to him, and he could not stop himself from smiling at the younger teen.

"Do you need immediate attention or will you be able to make it to DexLabs?"

"I'll be okay," Ben replied. He was so dead when Dr. Cardon got hold of him. "I can make it."

Dexter nodded, gesturing for one of the guards to come help them. Working together, they got Ben on his feet, mindful of his injured shoulder. The guard took most of Ben's weight, but Dexter stayed very close, ready to help. Pausing for a moment, Dexter looked to Gwen, still ignoring Kevin's existence as he said,

"If you would like transport home, Miss Tennyson, one of my drivers can take you."

Kevin sucked in his breath as if to protest, then stopped to stare at both young men standing together before him. Ben frowned, wondering at the uncharacteristic hesitation. For a moment, Kevin looked between Ben and Dexter, his mouth open in surprise. Ben knew in that instant that Kevin had the answer he'd been seeking all these weeks and that the truth astonished him.

As if he realized the same, Dexter shifted his stance to set himself between Ben and Kevin. He stared squarely at the Osmosian, daring him, challenging him to say a single word, ever. No matter how much he knew about them, no matter what he might say, Dexter knew something far, far worse about Kevin. The fact that Ben and Dexter were in love paled in comparison to what Kevin had tried to do to Ben and all three of them knew it.

_Say something,_ Dexter seemed to be begging. _Say something so I can destroy you forever._

He would do it, too. He was the golden child, the earth's foremost threat to Lord Fuse and Planet Fusion. The Plumbers, the United States government, Earth's Combined Forces, even the Kids Next Door regarded him as their greatest resource in this war and treated him accordingly. He had the money, power, and intelligence to deliver on these expectations. If he decided to take someone like Kevin Levin down, he could do it before breakfast. What was Kevin E. Levin to the likes of Dexter? A Plumber agent and nothing more, and not even one with enough rank or authority that Dexter would deal directly with him.

Kevin finally had his answer, and it hadn't been worth the price.

For the longest moment no one moved or spoke or hardly breathed. The standoff was broken when a faint click sounded as Chip Morton turned off the safety on his Null-Void. Reality flooded back in upon them in that instant. Kevin swallowed, giving himself a tiny shake before turning away and muttering, "Go ahead, Gwen. I gotta lot of stuff to take care of."

**_()()()()()()()()()()_**

Red eyes watched and listened with interest as a group of people left the warehouse. He recognized Gwen Tennyson as she climbed into one of the waiting vehicles. Obnoxious girl. She was not all she liked to think of herself. Tennyson, clearly hurt, was assisted into another vehicle. He smiled, hoping he was responsible.

Then he saw him, pausing outside the SUV to speak to one of the guards that followed him like dogs.

That accent. Those glasses. That arrogant gesture as he gave orders. It was he – or close enough to him. The one had done this to him. Torturer, tormentor, monster.

Just as he had paid for not being Ben Tennyson, that boy Dexter could pay for not being his Fusion. It was only fair.

They were waiting for something. Minutes passed, and finally the door of the warehouse opened again and Kevin Levin stomped out. The dark-haired man didn't even look up, but went directly to his car and drove off far faster than was safe. Then the vehicles drove off, two heading toward the highway and one turning toward the business district of Bellwood. Albedo watched them go, his heart racing and his mind awhirl with possibilities.

**_()()()()()()()()()()_**

"You'd be advised to head out as well," said the tall, blond security officer, standing in the doorway. "This area isn't too secure."

Kevin gave him a sullen glare, hating him and everything that had anything to do with Dexter.

Dexter. Dexter and Ben. Together. It boggled the mind and the imagination, but seeing them together . . . it worked. They worked. It made sense. How and why he couldn't quite fathom, but he knew he'd be damned lucky to find that sort of connection again. He still wasn't sure what it was that tipped him off. Maybe the way Ben had smiled when Dexter leaned close. Maybe it was the sheer ferocity of Dexter's protectiveness. Either way, he knew now, and the knowledge he had sought so doggedly was absolutely useless. If he said a word to anyone he would only be hurting Ben, and God knew he'd done that often enough. Besides, Dexter just had to make one phone call and Kevin would go from Plumber to this sector's most wanted list in seconds flat. He had to admit that the little brat had played his hand well. Better than Kevin had.

Then again, he'd never really had a chance. Not with Ben and not with Dexter.

He sighed, wishing this night hadn't happened, wishing he'd listened when Ben told him to drop the subject of who he was dating. Look where his pushy curiosity had landed him. He was sore and humiliated and guilty and terribly, terribly lonely and now this blond giant with the fancy gun was telling him (in so many words) to get lost.

And for once, he listened.

**_()()()()()()()()()()_**

"Stop squirming. You'll hurt yourself more."

"I want to see you."

"You know what I look like."

"Cute."

"I was going to say myopic."

"Ow!"

"Ben?"

He shifted uncomfortably, adjusting his jacket. "Got your gun in my pocket."

"Ah. I thought you were just happy to see me."

"Trust me, I am. Very."

"I know. Stay on your side and try to keep still."

"You know how long I've been waiting to hear you say that?"

"At least seven seconds."

Ben chuckled, then grew serious. "He knows. Kevin. He knows. About us."

He lay across the back seat of the SUV, his head cradled in Dexter's lap. He would have liked to look up at his rescuer, but his shoulder hurt too much to let him lay on his back. He had to be content with listening and not seeing and the touch of Dexter's gloved fingers in his hair, which was, as far as he was concerned, a decent trade-off. As it was, he was hard-pressed to stay awake despite the pain. Instinct told him to be upset, but the back of the luxuriously decked vehicle was warm and dry and comfortable and, Dexter assured him, perfectly safe and private. Ben couldn't bring himself to be uptight in these conditions.

"Perhaps," Dexter allowed. "When he uses his brain I'm sure he's quite intelligent. The knowledge will do him no good, Ben. Don't worry."

Well, if the Boy Genius said so, he would take it as a fact. It was something of a relief that Dexter wasn't anxious (at least in this case), and if Dexter wasn't, Ben couldn't work up the energy to be worried himself. Still, Kevin wasn't the only issue that had surfaced. "Albedo was there. I let him go, but maybe that was a mistake. Some seriously bad stuff has gone down. I've got a heck of a lot to tell you and your dad and Mandy and everyone else."

"I'm sure you do, but all in good time. We need to get you back and treated first. I promised my father you would remain in Medical until Dr. Cardon released you."

"What?" He made a long noise of disbelief. "That could be years!"

"Possibly."

Ben frowned. The redhead sounded positively eager. "Well you sure don't sound upset!"

A soft laugh answered. "Why would I be? The chance of having my boyfriend around for years - what is there to complain about?"

Couched in those terms, he couldn't see much to complain about, either. "Okay. I get your point. But an awful lot happened, Dex, and it's not good."

Dexter leaned down close and kissed Ben's cheek, his voice gentle and soothing. "One thing at a time, my love. I promise you, we will address every point you make. Right now, however, you're the priority. You need immediate medical care and a chance to heal. Everything else will fall into place."

He was right, as always. Ben knew he had done some serious damage to his shoulder and it was going to take a long time for him to get back into fighting trim. Still, he had a strange sense of relief to have confronted Kevin, and no matter how nerve-wracking and painful the encounter had been, he was glad it had happened. It wasn't quite closure, but seeing Dexter eat Kevin Levin alive had been immensely satisfying. Now they just had to understand what the Fusion Dexter was up to. Was it even possible to understand a Fusion mind?

Gentle hands stroke his hair and a soft voice whispered in his ear. Trying to stay awake was a losing battle, and so, safe in Dexter's arms, he surrendered. Sleep stole in upon him, and he didn't dream.


End file.
